


The Shortest Summer

by RedStockings



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Erik has Feelings, F/M, M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, Protective Erik
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2017-12-25 15:06:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedStockings/pseuds/RedStockings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik Lenhsherr, MD of H-fire Corp, can’t stand Chairman Shaw. Watching boy after boy being paraded around on Sebastian’s arm is making him sick. But tonight there is Charles, who refuses to play by the rules of Shaw's game. Who starts the night ordering champagne and ends it sitting in the gutter. Damn, this boy just might turn out to be the love of his life. </p><p>Charles begins the summer simply wanting distraction during his uni break. Of course his wish is granted in the form of his life imploding. His mother is ill, his sister is collapsing under the pressure, and a phone call from the US turns everything else upside down. His step father has been scamming the family of their fortune, and more importantly, it all involves the shares from H-fire Corp, his ex Sebastian, and perhaps even Erik Lehnsherr.  </p><p>Now Charles' fragile feelings for Erik are being tested. But Erik isn't one to walk away defeated. He'll prove Charles' heart was right all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Charles meets Erik Lehnsherr

**Author's Note:**

> Set in London because I’m British, and too lazy to set it anywhere else. Please excuse my woolly knowledge of corporate business and shareholders, I have never studied business, and have no one I can check my knowledge against. So please, if this is your area of expertise, I apologise for any glaring errors. Also, I've been editing for weeks, and if I don't post today, I fear I never will, so here goes...
> 
> Please also check the warnings tagged above. Non-con elements between Shaw/Charles in chapter one only. Main pairing is Cherik :D This fic will also contain graphics in later chapters, and lots of swearing.

**CHAPTER ONE, Prologue…**

  
“You look too young to be here,” the older man in the crisply pressed suit says, as he leans against the bar with a smile. The young man he is speaking to has been waiting for his opening line for a while, and is impressed by the stranger’s confident tone.

“You want to see my ID?” the young man asks, eyes running over the man before him, taking him in from his expensive shoes, to the grey hair at his temples. He knows he is being watched in return, and lifts his eyes slowly to the stranger’s face.

“I’d settle for just your name.”

“Well… that will cost you,” the young man replies with a smile, letting the idea linger between them.

Charles Xavier has already imagined this conversation, after he’d spotted the older man earlier that evening he’d been imaging scenarios. The stranger had been sitting with a blonde woman at a booth in the corner of the bar. The blonde had left, the man had remained, and Charles had made sure to extricate himself from the crowd and stand right where he would be seen. Sure enough, as he’d hoped, Charles’ target had swallowed the bait. The man had moved like someone used to having his own way; a person who very rarely heard no. Maybe it was an error of judgement, and a terrible mistake to be noticed by this man, but it was done now.

“How much?” the man asks. Charles looks down, pretending to be shy. He knows exactly what this man will get his wallet out for.

“You can’t pay me to sleep with you,” Charles replies in a voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ll take another glass of champagne.”

Older wealthy men were a favourite pastime of Charles’, having been brought up around excessive wealth, it was hard to find contemporaries who shared his occasionally extravagant tastes. Besides, there was little else to do during the summer weeks, when his lectures ended for the year and he went home. Any distractions from his mounting family problems were always welcomed.

“Sebastian Shaw,” Charles reads from the shining stamped letters on the man’s bank card, as it returns on a silver plate along with a receipt. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you. But, I should be going.”

He’s had too much to drink, and as he stumbles out of the club, and into the street, he feels himself being pulled in a direction he was never aiming for. Shaw’s hand is clasped around his arm, leading him towards a car. It’s a car with blacked out windows, it’s a bad idea, a dangerous idea, but it’s happening. Suddenly Charles finds himself on the back seat, Sebastian leaning over him, the outside world silenced by the slamming of the door.

“Now, you’ll be a good boy Charles,” he says, hands busy undoing Charles’ zipper, pulling his trousers down. Charles doesn’t fight him, but he doesn’t relax either. “I’m going to kiss you; that’s all. A taste of what you’ve been teasing me with all night.”

Shaw’s mouth is on his cock before he can even take a breath to reply, and the feeling of his hot tongue knocks Charles senseless. He lies back and he lets it happen, hands gripping at whatever he can find for purchase, legs trapped by his clothes and by Shaw’s weight. He’s gasping as sensations ripple through him, leaving him breathless and dizzy. Yes, he’d led this man on, yes he’d wanted this, but he’d drunk too much, he couldn’t focus, couldn’t see, the world was blurred and his heart was panicked. Too much, too fast, sickness rising in his throat.

Sebastian is ruthless with him, taking and taking until Charles can’t hold back. He comes with a startled cry, and feels something he’s not used to. He’s embarrassed, feels ashamed of his body, disgusted that he’d come when his mind was so muddled. But Sebastian holds him still, tongue still licking at him until there is nothing left to give, and Charles’ inner fight surrenders.

“You’ll meet me tomorrow night,” Shaw says, shifting his weight so Charles can finally free himself from under him.  
Charles realises he’s in a stretch limo, the engine is running, and the driver is behind a screen. He would have heard everything, every one of their moans, every word they spoke. Charles’ cheeks flush red as he hastily pulls his clothes back together. He doesn’t answer Shaw, just nods, keen to escape back into the night air. His thoughts are clearer now, the world a little sharper. Shaw makes no sign to indicate he wishes Charles to reciprocate, and after a moment of silence, opens the door. Charles has to climb over him to leave.

“Here, tomorrow evening,” Shaw reminds him, before the door slams closed, and the car moves away.  
Charles has no intention of returning, until he does. Sebastian Shaw takes him out every evening to dinner, the cinema, the theatre, wherever Charles wishes to go, and promises him all sorts of ridiculous things. Shaw is his generous with his money and his compliments, and requires only that Charles lie still as he takes his cock in his mouth at the end of every evening. Charles sways continually from enjoying being worshipped, to feeling disgusted at himself, never feeling easy with Shaw’s company. It continues for two weeks, then Shaw stops calling.

**CHAPTER ONE**

The sound of Sebastian Shaw laughing always got on Erik’s last fucking nerve. He could never really pin down the reason, at least, not to a single irritating factor. There were a lot of annoyances working together on this one, and the overwhelming last fucking straw, the thing that made it the worst, was the fact that Erik could do nothing about it. Erik could only grit his teeth and hold his tongue, and force a smile on his face, when forced to spend any amount of time with this irritating man. Right now, his patience was being tested to its limit, because Shaw was happier than usual, in his sick and twisted, and Erik suspected, evil way. And why? Because he’d somehow managed to hook a new victim into his ever expanding spider web. The web that was littered with so many dead corpses of past relationships that it was a wonder there was any room left to hang another.

“I swear to God Emma, if I have to listen to another racist joke I am going to kill him,” Erik hissed at Emma Frost, through gritted teeth. The forced smile on his face was starting to resemble a grimace of pain, bordering on psychotic madness. “Or myself.”

“You’re complaining? What happened to, he’s a miserable bastard and should lighten up?” Emma replied in her usual offhand manner, her eyes tracking Shaw as he walked somewhat unsteadily towards the gents. “Let’s all be thankful that he’s found someone else to play with for a while, and we can get on with our lives. He’s was becoming unbearable a few weeks ago, kept on taking about someone called Charles, and how he couldn’t ‘get anywhere’ with him. Now, there’s someone less picky apparently.”

“You retain too much of this tedious knowledge Emma, you need another hobby,” Erik informed her with a concern for her mental wellbeing. How Emma hadn’t snapped by now was a miracle, and Erik could only assume that her attitude of not caring about her fellow human beings was not just an act. She could tolerate Shaw because he just didn’t care about what he did with his free time.

Emma didn’t reply, she was busy still scanning the room for someone worth her time, leaving Erik alone with his thoughts. Unfortunately, the topic of Shaw wouldn’t leave him, feeling too riled up to think of anything else. Erik lamented his bad decision to join Shaw here tonight, and cursed the fact that having recently moved to London, he’d yet to make any friends outside of the office. As it was, he was therefore forced to associate with Sebastian, his company only made tolerable by Emma.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been too bad, had it not been for the fact that every few months the Chairman of the board, Sebastian Shaw had a new simpering little bastard attached to his arm. The man was insatiable in his quest to entertain himself, and careless with the lives of those he careened through. Erik had only joined the H-fire company fairly recently, and couldn’t comment with a hundred per cent certainty on his theories about Shaw, but the evidence was pretty damning. In the space of six months, Erik had already seen seven young men being paraded about by Shaw, like bought and paid for ponies.

Worse still, Shaw liked to bring his ‘dates’ here, to the Belvoir restaurant and bar, which only sold drinks by the hundred pound bottle, and other equally ridiculous prices. The Belvoir was also where Shaw liked to take his colleagues out to dinner, every Friday night. This would have been a nice gesture, but it came with a horrible price. Although Erik had managed to meet many of his new colleagues this way, only Emma was a regular fixture in Shaw’s life, and at this point Erik was only still agreeing to this because the TV schedule on Friday was dire.

“Is it boy toy Friday?” Erik asked. The night was still early; things had plenty of time to get worse.

“No, that was last Friday” Emma replied, stoic faced. “I think he was called Scott. Cute boy, but wouldn’t take off his sunglasses.”

Emma Frost was also on the board of directors, having been appointed last year by the shareholders. Of which, apparently there wasn’t all that many, most of the shares were still held by one individual… or something, Erik had never been all that interested in that aspect of his job. But he’d come to discover that it had been Emma’ influence which had allowed for Erik to be considered for the post of Managing Director. The company had taken one hell of a risk with him, because although he’d been MD in his previous employment, (a small family business) he was still only 30.

It had been Emma who had suggested Shaw invite him along for their Friday torture nights after someone of Shaw’s previous acquaintance had emigrated. Erik hadn’t blamed the man; he was starting to consider a career change himself, maybe far away, in Australia. At first it hadn’t been too bad, but then Erik had started to notice a pattern. Every other Friday night seemed to be Shaw’s ‘date’ night, where he would show up with a young man and become especially terrible to be around.

“The Lord help that blind child,” Azazel muttered, before draining his glass. “I’m going to the bar.”

Azazel had been working for Shaw for years as his bodyguard and driver. Tonight he was off the clock, and since Shaw appeared to have no friends who weren’t on his payroll, the man had become entrenched in Shaw’s personal life too. Erik didn’t mind him, he liked to drink, spout off a few home truths and then stagger home early. He’d also clearly given up on being disgusted by Shaw, because he seemed to just accept the constant stream of new partners as par for the course. That, or he was on some seriously fantastic medication.

Erik, who had been trying to check his emails and not waste anymore of his time, was interrupted from his task by a voice.

“Hello, sorry to intrude, but I am looking for Sebastian Shaw. The maître-d directed me over here.”

It was an accent that was impossible not to conjure a life history for, public school boy, young… they were always young, Shaw’s friends. Erik took his time in closing down his browser, making the boy wait, before looking up at the uninvited company. The young man he saw standing before him immediately rendered him speechless. His breath hitched, and he froze, feeling the world stop, break and remould itself into something new. Suddenly, Erik’s world collided against this boy’s, his presence exploding into Erik’s awareness like a bright light, blinding everything else. Fuck me, was all Erik’s brain could stutter.

“You’ve come to the right table love,” Emma answered once the silence dragged, and the boy started to look unnerved by Erik’s reaction. “He’ll be back soon. Why don’t you sit down?”

The boy looked pleased at the suggestion, and chose the seat opposite Erik. It was the place recently vacated by Shaw. Along the long table, people had started to leave, dinner being over, and the night becoming livelier. Soon the tables towards the centre of the room would be removed to make more drinking and dancing space for later arrivals.

“Oh,” the boy said after a moment of uncomfortable silence, and clearly under the correct impression it was his presence that was making it so. “Charles Xavier, pleased to meet you. You must be Emma Frost and Erik Lehnsherr.” His eyes lingered on Erik. “Sebastian described you both rather well.”

Emma’s eyebrow raised, and Erik knew exactly what she was thinking. Shaw didn’t discuss business with his acquaintances, especially not to the extent where they were able to recognise his colleagues by sight alone. She didn’t look overly impressed to have been identified by this boy.

Charles surveyed the two people who were looking at him rather askance. He was used to being stared at; he’d spend most of his life under the glare of one spotlight or another. People had always wanted something from him, and Sebastian Shaw wasn’t any different. Right now, all the man wanted was to get into his pants, and that he could handle. Or at least he had wanted to get in his pants, until he’d stopped calling a few weeks ago. But two could play that game, which was why Charles was here. No one messed him around, not without paying for it. Charles’ plan had been to show up, embarrass Shaw, and leave. Only, now he was here, it seemed a pretty stupid plan.

Emma Frost was just as he’d imagined her, perfectly groomed, and immaculately dressed with a cold smile. Shaw’s description of her had been spot on. Charles knew immediately that she was not someone to mess with, and would probably see through any tricks he might want to play to make life more interesting. Right now she was looking at him like she might look at anyone in this bar, just a random nobody whom she would forget about once she left. He remembered her as the blonde he’d seen with Shaw the first night he’d met him. Erik on the other hand, now he was someone worth taking note of. But, probably, entirely unreachable.

“You’re a friend of Sebastian’s are you?” Erik asked, feeling slightly annoyed and not overly sure why. He didn’t like the way the boy kept looking at him, with that slightly flirtatious smile, and big innocent seeming eyes.

“In a manner of speaking maybe, I’m not sure Sebastian has friends,” Charles answered checking over his shoulder in case he was being overheard. “At least, he’s not interested in just being friends with me.”

“Darling, are you sure you have the correct Friday?” Emma inquired suddenly, her blunt tone and equally blunt question knocking the smile from Charles’ face. Erik wished she hadn’t spoken, but she’d made a valid point.

“Pardon? Correct Friday?”

“Sebastian brings his dates here every other Friday,” she explained, not caring that the boy was starting to look slightly hurt. “It’s not the correct Friday. Are you sure he booked you for tonight?”

“Emma,” Erik cautioned, not quite believing how cold she could be sometimes.

“Booked me?”

Erik’s hand reached out towards the champagne bottle without even realising what he was doing. The boy’s eyes followed his movements, looking rather less composed than he had when he’d first sat down.

“Champagne?” Erik asked, forcing himself to keep his hands steady as he poured the boy a drink. Maybe it was the booze, but he was not feeling the mortification he should have been right now. All he could concentrate on was Charles’ foot, which kept brushing against his. “Emma you can’t assume people are prostitutes just because it’s convenient.”

Realisation suddenly dawned in Charles’ eyes, and he visibly relaxed.

“Oh I know Shaw pays for sex, but he’s not paying me,” he answered, brushing the awkwardness away as if it was an everyday assumption.

“Oh, I know who you are! You’re that Charles,” Emma said as if everything was suddenly all OK, and making sense again. “You’re the one who wouldn’t put out,” she turned to Erik. “The one Shaw tried to screw, but couldn’t get anywhere with. Charles.”

“Are you accusing me of being both a rent boy and a virgin?” Charles asked, looking mildly perturbed. “Because, that wouldn’t be lucrative.”

Again he smiled at Erik, the knowing grin of someone who had found their bait had been noticed. The smile reached his lively blue eyes, which were filled with mischief and a reckless uncaring of the consequences. Erik had never judged someone so fast, nor had he ever had such a strong reaction towards a stranger. It wasn’t on any level of knowing that Erik had ever experienced before, and he immediately threw up his defences. Or at least, what was left of them, after the alcohol took its hold. This boy was trouble, he could tell that straight away. Charles had a way of being which simply screamed of confidence, sure of himself, and acutely aware. This was no ordinary soul, Charles Xavier was something special and something perilous too.

“What are we drinking?” Charles asked, reaching for the bottle now sitting in half melted ice. “Cristal? Oh this stuff is foul, I prefer Veuve.” Erik watched him drain his glass regardless, and take out his phone. It was the upgraded model of his own. God he was really starting to hate this kid, but damn, had Erik’s body taken notice of him.

“How old are you?”

Charles paused midway through refilling his glass, and stared at Erik. God, he wished he he’d never asked about Shaw, but had just sat down and started talking to Erik instead. He was a good looking man, maybe the most attractive man Charles had seen in a long time. Charles imagined him to have a rugged athletic build under that expensively cut suit, lean and strong. But his eyes were sharp, intelligent, knowing. He was interested, but he wasn’t going to admit it, men like him never did.

“How old are you?” Charles asked, dropping the smile from his face and waiting for a reply. He looked Erik dead in the eye, and watched the other man narrow his. For a moment he completely forgot why he was here, just stared at Erik as if there was nothing else in the room.

“Thirty,” Erik replied brusquely. Charles was surprise to have received an answer to his pertness, he’d been sure Erik was going to dismiss him and return to pretending he wasn’t there. Now it was Erik’s turn to wait for an answer.

“I’m twenty three,” Charles replied.

“Bullshit are you,” Azazel blurted as he returned to the table, unsteady on his feet. “You look about sixteen, eighteen maybe.” He looked as if he’d thrown a few shots down his neck whilst at the bar, and was very red in the face. He also looked as if he’d completely lost the filter between his brain and his mouth, because he was giving Charles a very sloppy, yet teasing grin.

“I’m twenty three,” Charles said once more.

Azazel had burst into laughter at a joke he was clearly enjoying with himself, and Erik wished it might stay that way. In fact, he wished he could just re-do this night and start on the heavy liquor from the moment he’d arrived. Maybe that way, by the time Charles showed up he’d have died.

“You don’t recognise me do you? I suppose you wouldn’t, not without the car,” he said, sitting down heavily next to Charles. He peered at him closely, and then clumsily mimed holding a steering wheel. “I know you.”

“Now, that’s unfair,” Emma said, much to Erik’s surprise. He hadn’t understood the comment, but if Emma thought it was below the belt, then it couldn’t be nice.

Charles had gone worryingly pale. His hand was tight around his glass, and his knuckles were white as he still clasped his phone. Erik knew he was noticing far too much than what was normal about Charles, and felt sorry that his ‘friends’ were being so awful to him. Not that they would have behaved any differently to any of Shaw’s boys on the quiet, they were all rather hostile these days.

“Oh my God,” Charles mumbled, still looking sick.

“Oh my God!” Azazel mimicked, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes with his sleeve. “Oh yes, a classic line. Actually kid, I don’t mind you, you’re nice and quiet. It’s those ones who are all about putting on a show, screaming, crying about how big his cock is. And I’ve seen his cock… nothing special about it.”

“Yeah, oh my God,” Emma echoed, showing the first real emotion Erik had seen from her in a long time, mortification. “Let’s not go there shall we? And what if the kid goes and tells Shaw what you’ve just said? You want to lose your job?”

“Nah,” Azazel said, looking as if he couldn’t care less. “You want to put some more gusto into it next time kid, just go crazy with it, go on, and try it now. I’m off the clock, so I won’t have to hear it later…”

Erik drained his glass. The bottle was empty, and that was really not acceptable right at this present moment. Especially not acceptable, when Charles was looking at Azazel as if he would like nothing more than to take that bottle and smash it across his head.

“Where is Sebastian anyway?” Charles asked ignoring Azazel.

Emma looked as if she was having the worst night of her life, but Erik knew, her rather twisted sense of humour had been entertained. Charles Xavier appeared to be one hell of a good sport, since he’d managed to sit through constant abuse ever since arriving, and had even stopped looking embarrassed. Really, alcohol did terrible things, because none of this was even remotely normal.

“Not sure, he went to the bathroom twenty minutes ago,” Erik answered him. Charles wrinkled his nose, and then nodded as if this explained everything.

“He’s probably busy getting sucked off,” he stated with a shrug, sending Azazel into another laughing fit, which seemed to be infectious because even Emma joined him. Charles didn’t notice the effect of his comedy, because his attention was elsewhere. Erik watched him casually wave over a passing waiter. “Bottle of Veuve when you’re ready, you can put it on Mr Shaw’s tab. No, make it three.”

The waiter didn’t even question the order, which seemed strange to Erik. It made him wonder whether they’d all completely misread the situation. Azazel knew Charles, and recognised him from being with Shaw. He’d obviously overheard things he shouldn’t have from the back seat, which Erik didn’t care to think of. Shaw clearly couldn’t pay Charles for what he wanted, and had grown tired of waiting… which seemed ridiculous to Erik. Who didn’t want to be with someone like Charles? Who gave that up?

“Did you just order three hundred pounds worth of champagne on Shaw’s bill?” Emma asked, before returning to her usual calm. “You are something else. He’s going to pitch a fit.”

Charles just shrugged in reply, and returned to playing with his phone. Clearly he didn’t care what Shaw would say, or do in response to his forwardness. All he seemed to care about was getting suitably drunk for free. After a moment of silence Charles suddenly excused himself and walked away.

“Well… that was strange,” Emma commented. “And really Az, was that needed?”

“What? I was just teasing him. No, really, he’s a good kid. Completely normal for once, likes going to the movies, and likes Nando’s and Domino’s pizza …. But I haven’t seen him around for a while.”

It was weird that Azazel had taken such notice of Charles, he’d never seemed give a damn before. Maybe, like he’d said, Charles had been an actual real date of Shaw’s, not just another arrangement. He’d clearly been driving them around all over the city together in order to find out this information.

“Well, it seems the boss has fucked up yet again,” Emma said bringing the conversation to a close. “At least there is more alcohol on the way though.”  
Erik was about to forget the boy, when he happened to spot him at the bar. He was standing next to Shaw, and whatever conversation they were having didn’t look pleasant.

***

“What are you doing here?” Shaw demanded in a dangerously low hiss, standing and speaking very close to Charles’ face. It was oddly reminiscent of the night they’d first met, standing at the bar, standing close to one another. Only now, there was a very potent hostility to the way Shaw was speaking, which made Charles hesitant to say anything more.

“I came to see you,” he replied in a mumble of uncertainty. “I hadn’t heard from you in a while.”

Shaw didn’t look impressed, his mouth hardened into a thin as he took a deep breath in through his nose. He looked at Charles with a torn expression, weighing up his next words carefully. The boy was sweet, but he’d wanted too much from him. Shaw didn’t the patience any more for people like Charles, who still believed he was going to find the love of his life someday. Who thought he could make a lasting relationship out of someone he’d met at random. It just didn’t happen.

“You know what I want Charles,” Shaw reminded him. Yes he’d fuck Charles in a heartbeat with no regret if he had the chance, but the offer had never been there. Charles looked like a frightened rabbit in the headlights when he was expected to reciprocate any sexual favours, and Shaw really didn’t have the patience.

“And you know what I want,” Charles told him in return. Shaw shook his head. Charles didn’t know what he wanted. He played as if he wanted nothing more than to be tied up and used, but shied away at the first touch. It was the last time Shaw was going to waste his time on boys like Charles.

“It isn’t going to happen.”

“But maybe it could?” Charles asked. He had his hand on Shaw’s hip now, fingers finding the belt loops. “Work this time, I mean.”

“Are you being serious Charles? Because I am. I don’t have the time for your games,” Shaw warned, and hand moving to press against Charles’ chest, intending to push him away, but pausing.

“I’m not playing a game,” Charles said, but his voice was so small that Shaw wasn’t inclined to believe him. But fuck it, if the kid wanted to delude himself, then Shaw didn’t know why he should care. He’d warned him enough, made no promises, and still, the boy wouldn’t take the hint.

“Alright then, prove it to me. Come outside with me now,” Shaw said, pulling Charles’ hands away and stepping back.

“Now?”

“Right now.”

***

Charles’ hands reached above him for something to grip onto, and his fingers met with the cold glass of the window before sliding down to the metal clasp of the seatbelt. Sebastian leant over him, having pressed him down onto the backseat as soon as they’d made it into the car. His hands on Charles were heavy, greedy to touch him, pulling his shirt up to expose his stomach to his eyes. Dipping his head down, Shaw licked a trail from Charles’ navel up to his sternum, and then back down. Charles gasped at the feel of Shaw’s tongue, hot breath rushing over his skin, hands strong and holding him still. His head span with the mixture of alcohol and arousal, and he started to breathe in short panting breaths as Shaw’s hands ran over his thighs.

“I told you to make me believe it Charles,” Shaw told him, his hand moving between Charles’ legs, and gently rubbing his cock through his trousers. “Can you get fucked without falling in love?”

“Oh my God,” Charles whispered, his hips trying to move upwards and closer into Shaw’s touch. “Yes, yes. I don’t love you.”

It was strange thing to be made to cry out, but it worked. Shaw had been relentless in his pursuit, calling Charles daily, buying him gifts, taking him to dinner. All the while he’d been pestering him for sex, day after day, and Charles had held out. There had been something weird about Shaw that had kept him on edge, and every time he tried to convince himself it wasn’t happening, the feelings returned. Disgust and shame, but alongside this came a terrible need to keep seeking him out. Making Shaw believe he was in love with him was his insurance; it had made Shaw back off immediately. But he could feel the claws of obsession digging into him from all sides, and if he wasn’t careful, he might just make himself believe his own lies.

Shaw watched with unstated hunger as Charles moaned beneath his touch, and as he tugged his clothes off, he leant forward to bite that exposed neck. Trapped, Charles could only surrender, as Shaw’s hand began to stroke him. He tugged at him, long and slow, all the while breathing heavily across his skin.

“I’m not going to fuck you this time Charles, and when I do, I’ll have you begging, I promise you,” he assured Charles, his hand still moving painfully slow, up and down, causing Charles to thump his head back against the seat in frustration. “I’ll fill you slowly, just like this, until you shake from want of me.”

“Yes,” Charles gasped out, as Shaw’s thumb touched the head of his cock, swirling the liquid he was coaxing from deep inside of him. “I want that.”

“Why don’t you practice begging me now,” Shaw said, his other hand reaching down to cup Charles’ balls, feeling the young man jump at the new sensation.

“Faster please Sebastian, faster,” Charles begged, his erection straining for more friction in Shaw’s hand. He desperately wanted to reach down and help himself along, but he fought against the need, again reaching for something to hold. “Make me come, I need you, please.”

“You want to apologise for making me work so hard for this you little slut?” Shaw asked, his hand squeezing Charles tight, and moving faster. The boy couldn’t move, trousers around his knees restraining him, Shaw crouching over him, knees either side of his hips. The boy bucked upwards at the new rhythm, his body shivering and his head thrown back once more.

“I’m sorry,” Charles whimpered.

“I’m going to fuck you until you scream,” Shaw promised him, before he removed his hands abruptly. Charles cried out in despair of being so very close to climax, and having been left still pent up and panting. Shaw shuffled downwards, and again took Charles’ cock in his hand, once more beginning with the infuriatingly slow stroke, feeling the weight of Charles’ desire, rubbing pre come up and down the shaft. “Beautiful,” he said, before lowering his head.

Charles struggled against the sudden onslaught of Shaw’s mouth, tongue swirling over the head, and running up and down his length. All the while, Shaw continued to hold his balls, moving them together with every twist and turn of his tongue. Charles whined, trying desperately to keep himself from coming too soon. It was good, so good, taking the breath out of his lungs, making him screw his eyes tightly shut as his body began to thrust itself deeper and deeper into Shaw’s mouth. Suddenly Charles felt something pressing at him, Shaw’s hands were pulling him open, a finger pushing roughly inside of him. The surprise of the intrusion, and the pain of being unready made Charles cry out, his eyes opened in shock and he tried to pull away.

Shaw’s mouth was removed from him immediately, and his hand returned brutally pushing Charles over the edge and into the sweet oblivion of release. His body shook, but something had gone wrong. As he shivered through the blinding whiteness, Charles returned to find Shaw still hovering over him, an intense look on his face. No, he didn’t want this. A stupid fantasy about being roughed up a bit was one thing, having a finger brutally shoved inside of him with no warning at all was another. Charles felt dirty once more, and disgusted at himself. He’d given it away in the back of a car once again. He hoped nothing showed upon his face, but he also had the feeling Shaw wouldn’t care if it did.

“Now, suck me until I come in your mouth.”

Charles frowned, and shuffled upright, all the while feeling confused. Shaw had changed his plans, but was making no sign of acknowledging it. Instead he just unzipped his fly and took himself out, made himself comfortable, and pushed Charles’ head down and held him in place. Charles didn’t mess about, taking Shaw in as deep as he could he sucked at him without pause. Under such an assault of constant rapid movement, Shaw didn’t last long, spilling heavily into Charles’ mouth.

“Oh yes, that’s it boy, take it,” Shaw cried as he came. Unable to move, Charles had no choice but to swallow it down. Trying his best not to choke as it slid down his throat, the sensation not leaving him, even though he’d pulled back, and Shaw was tucking himself away. Charles swallowed again, but the taste wouldn’t lessen, as he hastily pulled his clothes right, feeling his hands shaking.

“I never believed you meant it for a second Charles,” Shaw said, smoothing back his hair, his expression turning cold. “You’re scared, and you’re bored, and I’m the only exciting thing to ever happen to you. But I’m tired of you now.”

Charles felt a lump rise in his throat. He felt so worthless, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. Shaw wouldn’t even look him in the eye, as if he wasn’t even there. But Charles was spared the agony of the moment by a knock at the window. Suddenly his surroundings returned to him, there was a driver just a few feet away from them, behind a screen who had heard it all, and there was the rest of the world just a pane of glass away. The window began to roll down.

“Not disturbing you, am I?” Erik asked as he leaned to look in the car. There was no expression on his face, but he couldn’t have been at a loss as to know what had happened in the car. Seeing Erik, a man who would never be interested in someone like him, made Charles feel all the more ill.

“I need some air,” Charles said, opening the door and trying to get out. He felt Shaw’s hand take hold of his arm, in the same aggressive way he’d used in the bar.

“Erik, see he gets home will you,” Shaw said, almost pushing Charles out onto the road.

Erik suddenly found himself helping Charles get out of the way, before the door slammed and the car began to drive away. Stunned, Erik looked down on the top of Charles’ head. The boy was clinging to him as if he couldn’t stand unaided, maybe he couldn’t?

Charles couldn’t make sense of what had happened. Shaw had left him on the side of the road once again, like a piece of rubbish. Maybe he was? What had he been thinking? Was he crazy? Stupid? Or just so starving for attention he’d deluded himself?

“I feel sick,” Charles muttered, feeling panicked and dizzy. He wanted to cry, and he wanted to throw up.

“Come on,” Erik said, helping Charles to the curb and sitting him down on the ground. “You’re alright, I got you.”

“No, it’s not alright…” Charles cried, before he leant sideways and vomited into the gutter. Erik found himself holding the boy up from falling head first into the mess, and felt him shaking with what seemed to be shock

“The fuck did Shaw do to you?” Erik asked, rubbing Charles’ back as he heaved once more. Charles began to gasp through his tears, too upset to even breathe, and wiping at his face with his sleeve. “I’m sorry kid, I should have warned you about him…”

“I can’t go home,” Charles whimpered. Erik didn’t want to ask why, not when Charles was in no state to answer questions, but it seemed going home was frightening him, so Erik wasn’t going to push it. “I can’t go home.”

Erik continued to rub the boy’s back until he became calm again, and he sat upright once more. He had his eyes closed, and looked deathly pale. There was a sheen of sweat across his brow, and spittle all over his chin, or worse, which after a while, he wiped on the back of his hand.

“I’ll be ok, you can go now,” he mumbled when his breathing became more manageable. “I just drank too much terrible champagne… and shots…”

“I’m not leaving you here,” Erik replied rather offended. “What kind of an asshole do you think I am?”

But Charles didn’t look as if he was in any position to argue with him anymore, as he started leaning to the side. He was about to fall asleep in the street, and if Erik were to leave him, anything might happen. There were worse things in the night than Shaw, as hard as it was to believe.

“Alright, time to stand up,” Erik said firmly, dragging Charles back onto his feet and walking him to the end of the road to flag down a taxi. After pushing Charles inside, Erik gave directions to the hotel he was staying in, and watched Charles promptly fall asleep against the window.

What kind of fucked up karma was this? He’d met someone who’d literally made him speechless, then he’d been forced to watch him be destroyed right in front of his eyes. Now, the universe had given him back, and asked, you still want him? One look was all it took to affirm that yes, the boy was still alluringly attractive despite his awful state, and that was really really fucked up.


	2. The Weekend with Charles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik finds himself spending the weekend with Charles, learning more about him than Erik suspects anyone has in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, chapter two :) Thank you to everyone for the Kudos!!

Erik ignored the concerned glance the doorman gave him as he carried Charles into the hotel. But due to the late hour, thankfully the lobby was deserted. Erik had, to all intents and purposes been living here since he’d taken the job with Shaw, and the company had offered to pay his living expenses until the end of the year. The property market was rather slow, and until something reasonable turned up, Erik was still living out of suitcases with no motivation to do anything about it.

Charles had woken up by the time they’d reached his room, a large suite near the very top of the hotel, and was leaning against the wall as Erik unlocked the door. He trustingly followed Erik inside and stood looking lost in the middle of the room. Erik pulled his jacket off and threw it on a chair, then turned to face Charles feeling awkward. Exactly what did one say in this situation?

“Where have you brought me?” Charles asked, now looking slightly alarmed.

“It’s the Intercontinental in Park Lane,” Erik replied, remembering the first time he’d stepped foot in here and been sure someone had made an error. The place looked like a home, more of a home than Erik could ever have made for himself on his own. The furniture was modern and sleek, the windows big and the rooms filled with light. “It was part of my perk package upon joining the company. I need to look for somewhere permanent, but, I’m not really the home making type.”

“You live here?” Charles asked as he started to look around, but his eyes were still glassy, and the exhaustion was showing again.

“I’ll give you the tour in the morning, right now, you need to sleep,” Erik said, walking towards the end of the room and disappearing down a corridor.

Charles followed him wearily, yawning, and trying not to let his brain start worrying him. He wasn’t threatened by Erik; he was clearly a good man, who had no interest in hurting him. At least, as far as Charles could tell, but more importantly it was too late to be worried now.  Charles felt sorry for teasing him earlier, having known nothing about him, he’d simply assumed he’d be like Shaw. But Erik was clearly nothing like Shaw. Shaw had left him on the side of the road like trash. No, Erik had scooped him up out of the dirt, and brought him to safety. It felt ungenerous to second guess his motivation.

“Here,” Erik announced, opening a door. “Spare room, complete with hotel toiletries in the bathroom, help yourself.”

The grateful look Charles gave him could have broken his heart, if he was sentimental enough to let it. He looked so small and lost standing in the room alone, and it took all of Erik’s resolve to shut the door and leave him alone. Charles was a grown man, if his claim of being twenty three could be believed, and was perfectly capable of getting himself into bed unaided, even in his current state. To distract himself from his guest, Erik headed to the lounge to watch TV. An hour later, and unable to stand any more late night TV repeated quiz shows, and the fact his eyes kept on straying in the direction of Charles’ room, Erik decided to turn in.

As he approached Charles’ room, he noticed the door had been opened and left ajar. Hesitating in front of it, Erik wondered why Charles had done this, and also toyed with the idea of peering around it. He told himself that he was simply checking that Charles was still alright, as he pushed the door open further and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Charles’ clothes were scattered about the room, and he was curled up under the duvet, tucked up to his chin, and asleep. Feeling calmer, Erik pulled the door to again, and continued on his way. There was smile on his face that he couldn’t rid himself of, and which stayed with him until he fell asleep.

Waking with a start, Erik sat up feeling as if something was different. The events of last night took a while to return to him, and he looked at his closed bedroom door with a sinking feeling in his stomach. The sun was high in the sky, meaning he’d slept much longer than he’d intended to. Would Charles still be here? The thought of Charles having left already, and with no guarantee of ever seeing him again, prompted Erik to immediately get out of bed, and check. Charles’ bedroom door was still open, but there was no answer when Erik knocked on it. He pushed it open and found the room was empty. But Charles’ clothes were laid out on the bed, his shoes neatly next to each other on the floor. He was still here. Undeniable relief flooded through Erik, as he continued into the lounge.

The balcony doors were open, and from where Erik was standing, he could see Charles’ bare legs, and sock covered feet propped up where the balcony wall gave way to ornate railings. As Erik neared, he saw that Charles was wearing the white hotel bathrobe, his hair was wet from a recent shower, and his eyes were closed as he enjoyed the sun. There was an empty coffee mug beside him and a plate with a few crumbs on it. Erik raised an eyebrow; Charles sure did know how to make himself at home. 

“Oh, Erik,” Charles said, as he opened his eyes and realised he wasn’t alone. “Were you watching me?”

“Perhaps,” Erik replied, letting Charles blush as he walked to the railings.

“I’m really sorry about last night, I shouldn’t have…” Charles said, sitting up straighter and placing his feet on the ground. “I behaved like an idiot.”

It was painful to hear Charles blame himself for Sebastian’s problems. Erik couldn’t imagine a single thing Charles could have done to warrant him being treated like that by anyone. He didn’t blame Charles for one moment, yes he’d made a mistake, and he was regretting his actions, but Erik also knew where most of the shame was coming from. It was unfair that Charles should be forced to feel so much, when Shaw wouldn’t even be giving the boy a second thought. Erik didn’t blame him for a single thing, and hoped that Charles would stop looking at him so apologetically.

“This is what Shaw does Charles,” Erik told him, turning to face him and resting against the balcony rail. “He uses people. People like you, who are too kind and forgiving. I’ve known him for six months, and the boys have come and gone. He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. The best thing you can do is forget him.”

“But I should have known better, it’s my fault,” Charles replied sadly.

“Are you not listening to me?” Erik snapped, seeing the boy recoil from him slightly in shock. “You’re not the one to blame. He took advantage of you, whatever he persuaded you to think, that is the truth. Now you have to forgive yourself for falling for it, and let it go.”

Charles didn’t say a thing. He’d never been yelled at in such a positive manner. It was like a mental slap across the face, and suddenly his mind felt clearer. Erik was right. He’d been living in some kind of haze, where his mind had conjured a hypothetical Shaw, who never was. He’d had an imaginary romance with a daydream, and until now, he hadn’t been able to let it go. Suddenly, that terrible feeling of disgust crept back over him, and he wondered how he’d ever convinced himself that it would fade away. It had been there all the time; he’d just refused to acknowledge it until it had overwhelmed him, time and time again. Erik was right, Shaw had used him, but he’d never deceived him. Charles had done that to himself. 

“I’m not sure I’m ready to forgive myself just yet.”

Erik frowned for a moment, but said nothing more. The sounds of the outside world started to intrude upon his ears, the traffic and life below having no respect for the weekend. Sirens and horns blared through the warm breeze, music was playing from the room above, and someone was laughing. It felt like a day for new beginnings.   

“Well, just as long as you do,” Erik said.

“You know,” Charles said, looking up from under his eyelashes. “You’re like my guardian angel, you rescued me last night.”

“I was able to help you, so I did. Nothing more Charles.”

“I know. Alright, my Jedi master, a wise Yoda. Forgive yourself you must,” Charles continued, a smile appearing on his face once more. He’d visibly relaxed in the chair now, no longer looking anxious. “Thank you.”

Erik shrugged. It felt good to see the boy smile at him, and smile because of him. To make Charles feel better and to take away his worries in turn made Erik feel warmer inside. He wished he could come up with a reason for Charles to stay longer, or even, for some way for them to meet again. But Erik couldn’t ask, not when Charles was here on unequal terms, and at a disadvantage. Erik wished they might have met amongst different circumstances, but it was a pointless musing and he dismissed it as a daydream. 

“Well, I’ll get dressed then,” Erik said after realising that Charles was staring at his bare torso. This was really the last thing he needed. As beautiful as Charles was, getting involved with him right now would be like holding onto a stick of burning dynamite. “And you’re welcome, for everything… I mean, it was nothing.”

Erik sat with his laptop on his knees, trying to work, while Charles lay on the sofa watching the TV. He was dressed in Erik’s old chinos rolled up at the ankles, a long sleeved t-shirt which swamped him, and was smiling at the programme, clearly entranced by the show. Erik didn’t care to see what he was watching, because watching Charles was distracting enough. It was with disappointment that Erik heard someone knock at the door, but immediately Charles was on his feet.

“I got it!” he yelled enthusiastically as he hurried to open it. Erik could see on the other side was a blonde girl, probably younger than Charles, looking rather annoyed. “You took your time.”

“I took my time?” she almost screeched. “I was supposed to be meeting Hank today, but I had to cancel because you didn’t come home last night!” She stomped past Charles and strode into the lounge with a furious expression on her face.

“Erik, this is my sister Raven,” Charles said in explanation as he closed the door. “Don’t be mean to him Rae, he let me stay here last night after I almost passed out in the street.”

Erik would never have imagined that he’d feel alarmed by a girl in leggings, converse and a tattered Rolling Stones hoodie, but she could have made an excellent horror movie villain from the look she was giving him.

“Please tell me you didn’t!” she said at last, coming to stop in front of the balcony windows and turning on her heel to face them both. “Tell me you didn’t sleep with him.”

“I didn’t sleep with Shaw,” Charles informed her with great effort. He looked as if he’d rather not be talking at all.

“Who the hell is Shaw? I meant him,” she said, pointing at Erik. Charles rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t sleep with Erik either!”

Raven looked as if she was trying to weigh up whether Charles was lying or not, but her expression was slipping into something more resembling concern.

“What happened? Why are you here in a hotel with some random guy? And why couldn’t you have just gotten the tube home this morning, instead of fucking up my whole day?” she asked exasperated. It was pointless, Erik knew Charles wasn’t going to answer these questions, and she slumped down on the sofa instead.

“Raven,” Charles warned quietly, and Raven became silent. “I’ll just get my stuff.”

Erik snapped his laptop closed, ignored the quizzical look he was receiving from Raven, and followed Charles to his room. Charles was busy tying his shoes. The rest of his clothes he’d folded neatly into a pile. He avoided looking at Erik throughout, until Erik sat on the bed and Charles couldn’t ignore him anymore.

“Will you come over for dinner tomorrow? So I can say thank you properly?” Charles asked without looking up. He stood once he’d finished his task, and stood nervously with his clothes hugged against his chest.

“You sure you want to do this?” Erik asked him, reaching up to touch Charles’ arm. The boy lifted his eyes up to meet his, his lip captured between his teeth in nervousness and nodded. “Alright.”

Leaning forward, Charles placed a shaky kiss to the side of Erik’s mouth. He’d never been so nervous around a man since he’d been a teen, messing about for the first time. Now his heart was racing over just the slightest of touches, and it felt good. Erik had seen him as his very worst, used and spat out by another, crying and broken. And yet Erik had given him more in the last few hours than anyone ever had, and it had cost Charles nothing.

Erik saw a shadow of Raven appear outside the door, and he let Charles walk away. He could hear Charles asking his sister for a pen, then after what felt like barely a second later and forever all at once, the main door slammed closed. When Erik returned to the lounge there was a note waiting for him, with Charles’ address, phone number and 7pm scrawled across it.    

***

Charles was nervous. He’d been thinking about Erik since he’d left him. He’d thought about him as Raven drove him home, he’d thought about him while he’d checked his emails, and he’d thought about him while he stood in the shower. The water had been hot, the bathroom full of steam making Charles lightheaded. His hands had moved downwards, fingers coaxing gently at himself, eyes closed, trying to recall Erik’s face, his chest, the way he moved. But all Charles could feel was Shaw’s desperate hands, cruelly punishing him for nothing more than just being. Shaw, who had made him feel ashamed of himself in only a few short minutes, who’s taste he’d began to recall on his tongue. He’d opened his mouth and let the hot water run in, spitting out the memory and leaning against the wall. Tears had begun to sting his eyes, but Charles refused to indulge. He’d forgiven himself, just like Erik had said, because he’d had to. He’d not hurt anyone but himself, and it was only his heart and his pride that had been damaged. He could recover, and he would, because Shaw wasn’t worth another thought.

“Hank is coming over,” Raven said as she opened the fridge door to aimlessly peer inside. “Don’t worry, we won’t get in the way of your seducing… we’re getting pizza and watching Doctor Who.”

“You don’t like Doctor Who,” Charles replied rather absent minded as he opened the oven to check the pastry was rising. Raven looked over his shoulder, and then wrapped her arms around his middle.

“You don’t like cooking, but you do it,” she spoke into his back. Charles turned and held Raven tightly to him, his little sister wasn’t little anymore, but she’d never stopped needing to be in his arms. He hoped she never would, because when they stood like this, the world felt calmer. It felt like time stopped, and they could go back towards better times.   

“Charles! Charles where are you?” someone shouted, followed by a thudding of something against a one of the old metal water pipes. The noise travelled into the kitchen and was followed by silence. Raven looked up at the ceiling, and sighed.

“I’ll go,” she said, “You don’t want to burn your pie.”

Charles hated cooking, every day during the summer he stood in front of this oven waiting for food to be ready. Then he would start the ascent up the many stairs to the top of the house and take a deep breath before walking into his mother’s room. She might eat it, she might not, it would all depend on her mood of the day, but he certainly wouldn’t receive any thanks for his efforts. He’d been doing this for so long, he couldn’t even imagine a time when this hadn’t been his life. Between himself and Raven, they had kept their mother alive, but it was wearing, their patience with their own static lives was growing thin. Raven was itching to break away, and run as far as she could, but Charles knew she never would. Leaving would mean chaining him further to his mother’s side, and neither of them could inflict that upon each other. It was a nightmare of a life that wouldn’t end.

***

Erik took a cab to the specified address, and loitered for a moment out on the street. The house was old Victorian, and tall; probably bigger on the inside than it looked from the street. With no reason to delay other than his nerves, Erik rang the doorbell and waited, all the while fighting the urge to run away up the street, and jump into the next cab. He battled with his anxiety and his warring emotions until the door opened, and Charles was smiling at him once more. Suddenly, nothing he’d been worrying about before this moment seemed to matter anymore.

“You found me, good, come in,” Charles said cheerfully, all traces of tiredness gone from his face. His smile was back in his eyes, and his face was young and bright once more. Erik tried not to stare at him as he handed his coat over.

He also tried not to stare at him also as he followed him into the kitchen, and as he watched him check on the dinner. But it was impossible for Erik to keep his eyes off him, especially as Charles chatted animatedly about something he’d read in a science journal while he fussed over the oven. Something about growing stem cells, specific ones for different ailments, and how it was going to vastly improve the lives of Alzheimer patients. Charles today was a far cry from the flirtatious and purposely obnoxious person he’d met on Friday, and a world away from the ashamed young man he’d found yesterday. It felt natural and real, as if Charles had not only invited Erik into his home, but he’d invited him to see his true self also.

“You like green beans?” he asked after a half hour of happily talking, mostly to a mute Erik, who was happy just to sit back and watch him.

“Absolutely, load em up.”

“Oh good,” Charles said, placing the beans carefully on Erik’s plate. Charles’ cooking wasn’t half bad, and it had been a long time that Erik had eaten at a kitchen table.

Charles’ hair, which had been pushed back from his face when Erik had first arrived, was starting to fall forwards and into his eyes. Charles’ hand smoothed it back into place, but still, a lock fell free. It looked better that way, more relaxed. Charles ate like he was starving, and judging from the size of him, that was probably true. He was small, in the slender kind of way that most men had grown out of by their twenties. But it suited him, with his little elfin face, the skin on his cheeks still soft. He made Erik want to look after him. How could Shaw just cast him aside? Didn’t he know what Charles was? He’d never meet another boy like this if he searched the whole globe from sea to mountain.

Still, Erik knew Charles was no angel, the wicked grin he had given him on Friday night had said enough. He was reckless too, too trusting, and if Erik wasn’t careful, Charles would be stealing another heart tonight. But then, that was what he was here for right? Charles hadn’t invited him to come and play chess with him.   

“So, Erik, what do you do in that big shiny City building?” Charles asked as he finished eating, and relaxed in his chair. He put his hands on his stomach, smoothed down his shirt, and then put his hands back on the table. Erik was barely halfway through his meal, and suspected that Charles probably never sat still for very long, judging by his fidgeting.     

“I’m the managing director,” Erik answered, knowing Charles was only asking him because it was the standard questions of a new acquaintance. “I oversee the daily running of the business.”

Charles nodded.

“And what does Shaw do?”  

The question dropped like a stone between them, and Erik paused. Oh yes, Shaw. For a brief moment he’d forgotten about Shaw, but seemed Charles hadn’t. He looked as if he was greatly anticipating the answer. Erik wasn’t sure why. Maybe he was just making conversation, maybe he was still hung up on the man. Or maybe something else entirely? Erik couldn’t be sure. 

“He’s the Chairman of the board of directors, which deal with the shareholders and the financial side of things… you’re really interested in this?” Erik asked, finding this rather difficult to talk about. He’d rather pretend that Shaw didn’t exist at all, and was felt rather annoyed that Charles wouldn’t forget him.  

“Absolutely, my father used to be involved in the energy industry, and I miss hearing business talk,” Charles replied as if that was perfectly explanatory. “I find it interesting. Which is one of the reasons I thought Sebastian was amusing.”

If that were true, it would go some way to explaining why Charles had fallen into his clutches. Shaw was old enough to be Charles’ father, and if Erik was going to go travelling down that road, he was going to have to brush up his psychology. Charles was suddenly looking a little down heartened, as if the topic of Shaw had taken him back to the other night, and apparently he was still wasn’t comfortable about that. Erik imagined there was still a degree of embarrassment there on Charles’ part.

“Yes, Shaw does like to talk business,” Erik replied.

“Hmm, you’re alluding to the fact you think he offered to pay me,” Charles replied with a slight smile. “Perhaps you’re working up the courage to make me an offer yourself?”

“Maybe we could make some arrangements?” Erik said looking Charles directly in the eye, and keeping his expression deadly serious. That had meant to be a joke, but Charles looked highly taken aback and rather surprised. If Charles wasn’t laughing, then Erik had just come on to him rather strongly, by suggesting they make some sort of deal.

“It’s that kind of a business talk that gets a fellow in trouble,” Charles replied, his lips again curving into a smile. “Besides, I think it’s time to look for something new. Maybe something real.”

Erik grinned and it was an untamed expression; telling Charles that there was a wildness behind that tailored exterior. Behind those kind eyes there was a dark need, which right now, was focused on him. It made Charles shiver, and he wanted to possess it. Shaw had been a distraction of the moment, but Erik, he was an addiction which would last a lifetime. All it would take was a hit, just one, and Charles would be under. Lost. He was too much of everything, too perfect, too hazardous. Letting Erik in would mean exposing his real self, the secrets he’d been hiding behind meaningless moments with people like Shaw. Those people never looked into his eyes, or sought to break something deep and unfixable inside of him, but Erik would.

“Something new,” Erik said holding up his glass of water in a toast, and taking the tension away. Charles let out a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding, and felt himself uncoil. He’d been half ready to run right then, skin prickling with anticipation of sensing a stronger predator in the waters.

A flurry of footsteps down the stairs signalled unwanted company, and the kitchen door burst open to reveal Raven looking rather flushed in the face. In her hand was a half-eaten pizza slice.

“Oh hey Erik,” she greeted, before wrapping her arms around Charles’ shoulders, and leaning over him from behind. “Are you going to be using the lounge?” she mumbled into his cheek.

Erik noticed that Raven wasn’t alone. She had an anxious looking young lad in tow, who was hovering in the doorway holding the rest of the pizza in its delivery box. Erik gave him a nod of recognition, supposing he must be Raven’s date, or maybe her boyfriend. Then he decided he didn’t really care all that much. Eventually Charles managed to untangle himself from his sister, but she was making it very difficult.

“You promised me you’d stay upstairs,” he said, obviously not pleased that she’d crashed his evening.

“Aw come on Charles, you totally owe me for yesterday,” she whined, before reaching forward and pinching Charles’ cheek. “You can show Erik all your dorky collectables and science stuff.”

“Fine, we’ll go upstairs,” Charles said scraping his chair on the tiles as he stood. He didn’t look at all pleased with Raven especially now he had to wipe pizza grease off his face. “Come on Erik, I’ll show you my dorky collectables. Thanks Raven.”

Raven gave Erik a smile that made him so very thankful that he was an only child.  

“I don’t mind staying in here,” Erik said. Charles shook his head and said nothing further. With no explanation to the sudden change of plans, Erik followed Charles out into the hall, and up the stairs.

“Mother is ill,” Charles said as they reached the landing. “Things are complicated at the moment. Raven was looking after her alone while I was away, but I came back to help her.”

Erik looked at the next staircase leading higher, musing over what he’d been told. Presumably Raven and Charles operated a ‘someone on call’ at all times shift pattern, which was the only explanation Erik could see for why they’d had to come up here. But he didn’t feel right in asking; especially now Charles had reached the end of the landing and was waiting for him to catch up.  

“This is my room,” Charles said, feeling ridiculously nervous as Erik stepped over the threshold. “Ignore the boxes; I still haven’t unpacked from Oxford yet.” 


	3. The truth about Mrs Xavier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik takes things a little further with Charles, but is stopped by the reveal of a family secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here begins the plot of this fic... and the spiral into angst? Thank you to everyone who left me kudos, it's really helped me have the courage to just get on and type this fic out. 
> 
> Warning, this fic will now contain a character with a chronic and progressive mental illness/disease.

It really didn’t take long for Erik to take the hint, and sit on the bed with him. Being as there was nowhere else for him to sit, and he couldn’t continue standing in the middle of the room. Charles felt his heart flutter a little as Erik twisted to look back at him. Under Erik’s gaze, he lay back against the pillows, stretching his arms up above himself in a languid gesture, fingers laced together, before placing his hands behind his head in support. Erik’s eyes darted a look at his stomach, where his shirt had ridden up an inch, and Charles bit back his grin. It was a strange ending to their evening, perhaps it might have lasted longer had Raven not interrupted them, but Charles knew this would go one of the two ways now. Erik would either stay, or he wouldn’t, as the change of scene brought with it the reality of what they were doing. Charles waited for the, ‘well I should probably go’ speech.

“You have a lot of science books,” Erik commented as he looked at the bookshelf. “They don’t look like amateur reading either.” Charles had clearly done, or was undertaking some serious applied studying, which seemed at odds with his rather superficial personality. However, Erik already realised he’d made a wrong judgement of Charles from the off, but this was still unexpected.

“I studied biochemistry at uni,” Charles replied offhandedly as if it was nothing, and then looked up at Erik expectantly, waiting for his response. People were usually dismissive of him, thinking him bragging, or they rolled their eyes when he mentioned being at Oxford. He decided this time to keep that to himself, unless asked. Of course, his family name and wealth had made his application go a little smoother, but it would have been disrespectful to his father to be annoyed about it. He’d been born with a hand up in the world, but it was just the luck of the draw. It had also come with plenty of penalties and dues to be paid also. However, Erik seemed impressed and visibly relaxed now they were talking again. “I did my masters in the field of genetics, and then transferred to UCL where I’m working on my PHD.”

“Well, congratulations,” Erik said, sounding as if he was being very genuine. Charles felt a swell of pride at himself, which was a very rare feeling these days. He’d always been expected to achieve accolades, so no one had really cared when he had. Plus, Erik’s good opinion felt worth the earning, and that smile made him feel warm. “Genetics though? That’s unusual… I’ve clearly underestimated you Mr Xavier.”

“You’re going to ask me why I was messing about with Shaw, aren’t you?” Charles said, seeing Erik raise an eyebrow slightly. It would be a good question, especially considering what had happened.

“Perhaps I was, but maybe not so bluntly,” Erik answered honestly. “Wouldn’t you consider being with a man like that, a waste of your intelligence?”

Charles frowned, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. On one hand Erik sounded almost accusing, and on the other, rather flattering. Clearly he believed Charles was wasting himself on Shaw, which had proved to be the case. Still, admitting that he’d been so terribly wrong was still a hard pill to swallow. It also highlighted the knowledge that Erik obviously thought he was a better option, whether he’d admit it or not.

“I suppose so… “ Charles agreed after a moment’s thought. “But I’m fully aware that I’m not making anyone proud Erik, least of all my family.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Charles began with a sigh, wondering why he was even speaking about this at all. It certainly wasn’t something he had ever shared with anyone else before. “It’s not what my mother wanted me to do. I was meant to _follow in my father’s footsteps_ … and perhaps regain some of the family’s lost financial interests.”

This seemed like a rather heavy burden of guilt to be placed on someone so young. He felt sorry that Charles viewed his educational choices with what sounded like regret. He wanted to ask more, find out more about what had led Charles to take his own path in life, despite the confessed lack of support from his family, but it seemed too personal.

“And your father’s line of business was?”

Charles frowned once more. Was it possible that Erik didn’t know who he was? That he’d finally met someone who wasn’t interested in his family name, and the subsequent hypothetical fortune? Hypothetical, since not a penny of it was his, other than the living he’d been allotted via his father’s Will. His mother still owned the business, controlled all the finances, and owned property, which was becoming more and more problematic by the day.  

“He was a nuclear physicist,” Charles replied. Once again there was no sign that this meant anything to Erik, and he didn’t follow up with the usual questions regarding his finances.

“Was?”

“My father died when I was eleven. Mother remarried a few years after, but it didn’t work out for us. They’re divorced now,” Charles explained, still waiting for Erik to recognise him. He worked for H-fire corp, right? Surely he’d have read up on company history… but apparently not.

He was giving Erik everything here, and still, no usual reaction. Erik was looking at him as if he was the most fascinating thing in the world, and for the first time in a very long while, Charles actually started to feel some sort of self-worth. Being loud, unabashed and confident didn’t always mean a person was secure. Erik didn’t need to be flash, or talk a lot, or make a spectacle of himself to be noticed. Erik was interested in what Charles said, and not what Charles could do for him. It wasn’t something Charles was accustomed to, and it made him nervous. It was the nerves that prompted him to turn the conversation to something he was more comfortable with.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Charles asked with a smile, pushing the intense conversation to the side. He noticed Erik tense up at the question, and the reaction made Charles hold his breath. Maybe he was pushing his luck here; Erik had already made it pretty clear that he didn’t think it was a good idea to be heading down that road. Then again, he clearly couldn’t follow his own advice, since he’d already jokingly propositioned Charles in the kitchen, and far more tellingly, and accepted the invite for dinner in the first place.  

“What do you think?”

“I think…” Charles replied, stopping to consider his answer. “That if you were, they’d be rather annoyed you were here with me. Are you even gay?”

The frank and rather blunt reply was not what Erik had been expecting at all, and he found himself at a complete loss of what to say. Charles smiled at him some more, it was somewhat mean to suddenly put Erik on the spot like that, but Charles wasn’t much for the games. Erik was either interested or he wasn’t, because in the end, this would all be heading in one direction. Not tonight, but maybe another Erik would want to stay the night.   

“I’m not seeing anyone,” Erik said, edging closer. “But I’d quite like to be seeing you, does that make it clearer?” There was no point in denying that the more time he spent with Charles, the more nothing else seemed to matter.  

Charles’ heart began to beat a little faster, this was familiar, this he could handle. Only his breath never normally hitched like that, nor did he find himself lost for words. The tension between them was too much to ignore, was it too soon to do something about it right now?

“You’re seeing me right now,” Charles whispered as Erik moved closer still, now atop of Charles, caging him in.

For the first time in a long time, Charles was feeling something genuine. He wasn’t forcing a smile onto his face, or choking back disgust and threatening tears. His hands were not being forced somewhere he’d later regret, instead, he was clasping his fingers around the top of the headboard behind him to keep himself from doing something stupid. But Erik’s smile was hypnotic, and Charles could look nowhere else. He was both excited and afraid that Erik might come closer still.

“Hm, the boy who never stays quiet for long is suddenly silent,” Erik observed with a grin, having really not thought this through, he was flattered that he’d received such a reaction. Charles was transfixed, his chest moving in little fluttering breaths, and his big blue eyes wide with surprise. Charles had been dazzling him from the moment they’d met, daring him to make a move; laughing at him, and teasing him. He’d been vulnerable and needing of him, but still out of reach, and now, Charles was right here.

He placed his hand on Charles’ chest, feeling him breathe in sharply at the unexpected touch.

“Your heart is racing,” Erik said, hand sliding down then around Charles’ middle to hold him still. “I think that normally, you’re a piece of ice, and now you’re frightened, because you feel something.”

Charles couldn’t speak, he was scared and even worse, he’d managed to show Erik everything. Was he so transparent that in only a few days, Erik could read him so clearly? Could look at his defences and laugh at how feeble they were, and then take him apart with only a few words? Charles had never felt so exposed, and it was exhilarating, because despite it all, he trusted Erik implicitly.

“Maybe you’ve been wrong about me, maybe I just want to use you too?” Erik whispered close to his ear, fingers digging into Charles’ side. “Maybe I’m a total bastard with a weakness for beautiful little twinks.”

“You’re making this dirty,” Charles said, his heart still racing, but suddenly an ugly question ghosted through his mind. What if Erik wasn’t joking? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been strung along with kindness, only to be treated like crap in the end. He had Erik figured out, right? He was a good guy, a decent man, who would have politely kissed his cheek at the end of the night had Charles not pushed him into it. But now, here Erik was, slowly seducing him, and not looking a bit nervous about it. What had Charles started now? “And don’t call me a twink.”

“What about beautiful, can I call you that?” Erik asked, seeing Charles blush. “But just so you know, if you were wrong about me, I’d be kissing you now.” Erik had him trapped, pinned to the bed with the frame of his body, and all Charles could do was to try not to whimper. “I’d kiss you until you couldn’t catch your breath, as you lay there, panting for my touch, I’d bite your ear, just here,” Erik continued, moving closer to speak softly into Charles’ ear, the words ghosting over his skin leaving him tingling.

Charles shivered beneath him, his hands moving to rest on Erik’s arms, holding on, both pushing him away and keeping him close all at the same time. God, he wasn’t sure how he’d gotten here, but he wasn’t about to let go. Erik was suddenly in control, taking him somewhere he’d only ever dreamed of. He’d barely touched him, and yet Charles’ eyes had closed, his lips had parted and he dug his fingers in tighter. Stay, stay, he whispered in his mind.

“Go on,” Charles instructed him. “Tell me more. Make it harder to breathe.”

“I’ll kiss your neck maybe?” Erik said shakily, his control starting to become difficult. He desperately wanted to do touch Charles, and the fantasy was starting to affect his body now. Charles had clearly given up all pretence, and Erik knew, if were to lower his mouth to that pale neck, Charles wouldn’t push him away. But he couldn’t, there was still something there, holding him back. Something, that told him to wait. “You have a fever for me Charles, I can feel your pulse under your skin.”

A little hitch in Charles’ breathing told Erik he was on dangerous ground here. Charles couldn’t keep looking like that, reacting as if Erik was really kissing him. It wasn’t fair to be tempted so.

“Say my name,” Erik instructed him moving back slightly and hoping to cool his longing for a moment.

“Erik,” Charles whispered, opening his eyes and looking up at him with a dizzy expression. But as he felt Erik’s leg move up in-between his, something made him turn his head to the side, and fear shot through him with a jolt. “Erik, Erik stop!”

Erik froze, feeling as if someone had just dowsed the moment with ice cold water, and struggled to move quickly enough as Charles pushed him away and fought to free himself from under him. He followed Charles’ startled gaze and found a figure standing the doorway. The unexpectedness of this made him jump and let go of Charles instantly.

“Mother!” Charles cried, shuffling off the bed and then hesitating to move further towards the figure in the door. Erik copied him, and straightened his shirt in respect trying to look as if he wasn’t just moments ago trying to seduce this woman’s son. “What’s wrong?”

“Brian, I told you not to bring your work associates home anymore,” she said, staring at Charles with dull unseeing eyes. “I don’t like strangers in the house.”

“I’m Charles,” Charles replied quietly.  

“Don’t be stupid, Charles is at school!” the woman snapped, thumping her hand violently on the wooden door. It made a loud hollow sound. “He’s always at school!”

The unexpected noise made Charles flinch and he carefully walked forward as if he thought she might lash out at him also. Erik stayed where he was, watching, but feeling tense. He’d been on top of her son, been talking dirty, and with her stood in the doorway watching. He deserved to be kicked out into the streets with shame. Her eyes drifted past Charles for a moment, and her expression when she looked at Erik was almost murderous. It was obvious that this woman was not in her right mind, she looked disorientated and confused, but knew enough to realise Erik wasn’t supposed to be there. Charles moved to stand between them, and as he did so, his mother returned all her attention to him.

She was dressed in a silk pink nightie which stopped at her ankles, and her shoulders were covered with a lace bed jacket which tied with a bow at her throat. Her feet were bare, and looked small, cold and white, as did her hands. Her hair was a multitude of different greys; falling loose to her shoulders in soft perfect waves. She looked like a woman who had taken a lot of pride in her appearance and it still showed, from perfectly painted nails, to groomed eyebrows, and the red lipstick on her pursed lips. She must have been in her late fifties, but her eyes looked as if they belonged to someone much older. They were almost hazy, lifeless, and stared at Charles with a frightening directness.

“Mother, it’s late, let me help you back upstairs. You ought to go to bed,” Charles said gently, reaching to touch her arm. She moved abruptly away from him, stepping back into the landing.

“I don’t want you spending time with anyone but me!” she screamed, backing away hastily and looking fearful. “You promised me Brian!”

“Charles!” Raven called tentatively from somewhere further away. “Are you alright?”

The woman turned to face down the landing, to where Erik assumed Raven must be standing, and pointed a finger in her direction.

“It’s that girl,” she said, eyes narrowing. “I told you, I don’t like that girl. She’s a bossy bad… cat!”

“Mother that’s Raven. You know Raven.”

“She’s trying to hurt me! Don’t let her hurt me Charles!” the woman suddenly shrieked, grasping hold of Charles with the ferocity of someone in fear of their life. “She’s a bad nasty cat!”

“Raven would never hurt you,” Charles explained gently, wrapping his arm around his mother and starting to guide her away and towards the stairs to the higher floor. “Raven loves you, and you love Raven. Try to remember.”

Erik listened to the footsteps up the stairs before he walked out onto the landing, only to be met with Raven standing alone, wiping at her face. She was trying not to cry as she gave him an apologetic look. As guilty as he felt for what he’d been caught doing just now, his heart had room enough to pity this girl. Her mother didn’t even know her, neither had she recognised Charles. Did they care for her alone? Did no one help them?

“Sorry. I’ve ruined your evening,” she said, a few more tears running down her cheeks. “I shouldn’t have interrupted your time with Charles earlier, I was being a bitch.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, you’re fine,” Erik assured her. They both looked upwards as the floorboards creaked above them. “What’s wrong with your mother? Can I do anything to help?”

“I doubt you can help Erik. No one can,” Raven said, moving away and heading back downstairs. Erik was about to return to Charles’ room and wait, but Raven started talking to him again, as if she expected him to follow her. “The doctors say things will just get worse, and there’s nothing they can do. She has Alzheimer’s. Lately she’s started to forget who I am, and only wants Charles.”

Erik said nothing as he walked with Raven in to the lounge.

“Everything alright?” Raven’s date asked. He looked less alarmed than Erik, which suggested this wasn’t his first encounter.

“Fine, Charles is sorting it,” Raven informed him before sitting next to him on the sofa. “Erik, this is Hank, my boyfriend. Hank this is Erik, Charles’… uh, date?”

“Nice to meet you,” Hank said, standing and walking forward to shake Erik’s hand. He still looked rather intimidated, and had a nervous blush across his cheeks. His free hand moved to push his glasses further up his nose. “Are you a fan of Doctor Who?”

Erik stared at the TV screen without taking in a thing. Next to him, Raven had her head on Hank’s shoulder, and the boy was absentmindedly stroking her hair. No one was relaxed, which became apparent by the sudden burst into alertness everyone made when Charles walked into the room. He went straight to the armchair and fell into it, not looking at anyone.

“She’s asleep,” he muttered with his eyes closed. He stayed like that for a moment, before looking at Erik. “I guess you need to leave soon, you’ll have work in the morning.”

“Yes,” Erik said, noticing that Raven and Hank were doing an excellent impression of people so entranced by the programme that they couldn’t hear what was being said. Charles stood back up, with what looked like bone-deep weariness.

“Come on, I’ll see you out,” he said, walking past Erik and back out into the hall.

“You should come over again sometime,” Raven said as Erik stood, she smiled at him rather sadly, her eyes still red. “It’s not always like this here; it’s just lately that it’s got a bit shit.”

Erik knew nothing he could say would make this better, so he simply said goodnight. He found Charles in the hall with his coat, looking as if it was the end of the world.

“Thanks for staying,” he said as he handed it over. “You didn’t have to.”

“Are you sure you’re OK?” Erik asked. He wanted to touch Charles, to make sure he knew he was here for him. But what right did he have to do that? Anything he might say to that effect would never be sufficient, and at worse, it might seem disingenuous.

Charles found he wasn’t able to speak. How could he say sorry enough for all he’d made Erik suffer through in the past few days? It had been a stupid risk bringing Erik here, hoping that for once, his luck might change, but he’d just wanted to do something normal for once. But although Erik looked concerned right now, Charles was sure he’d run a mile once he was out of the door. Everyone else always did. The Xavier’s were an excellent idea in theory, but no one stuck around longer than they needed to when the truth came out. But still, Erik’s concern was sweet, and Charles couldn’t stop himself from stepping forward, placing his hands on Erik’s arms to steady himself, and pressing a brief kiss to his cheek.

“I’m fine,” he said, letting go. “Well, I’ll see you,” he added vaguely, giving Erik a strange pat on his arm, and walking away to re-join his sister and Hank. Erik stood motionless for a moment, before he pulled himself together enough to open the door and let himself out. He stood on the front door step for what seemed like the longest time, before he found the courage to finally walk away.


	4. Phone call from America

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven and Call receive a phone call that starts a chain of events rolling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, had a crisis of doubt over this fic and hated everything I'd written. So I mentally slapped myself and re-edited, hoping it's not too complicated to follow. :D

 

Monday morning came around far too quickly. The rain was pouring, the temperature was cold, and the Xavier family were all together for once in the lounge. Sharon Xavier looked upon her children from her place in the armchair, dressed for the weather in a cable knit jumper, which she had insisted on pairing with a woollen hat. Raven had given up trying to argue with her in regards to her clothes. Since Sharon Xavier now no longer liked to go outside, no one would see her, and no one would know.

“Mother you don’t need a hat,” Charles had said as soon as he’d seen her. “I’ll put the fire on.”

It had made no difference, the hat had stayed but at least the morning was calm. That was, until the phone rang with its intruding shrill.

“Hello, my name is Alex Summers, and I’m calling from the bank of New York Mellon Corporation. This is a courtesy call to inform you that we have not yet received your updated instructions regarding your investments.”

“I’m sorry, who did you say you were?”

Raven looked at Charles, and her concerned expression was alarming enough to make him sit up straighter. He’d been lying on the sofa feeling sorry for himself, thinking of Erik and wondering what he ought to do. When the phone had rang, he’d been content just to ignore it, but Raven had made the effort. Judging from her face, it wasn’t soemthing expected.

“No, I’m not understanding this… what investments?” Raven asked, giving Charles a ‘what the hell?’ quizzical glance. “And what exactly is H-fire corporation?”

Instantly, Charles was on his feet, holding out his hand for the phone. H-fire was Erik and Shaw’s business. Why the hell would someone be calling about that?

***

By the afternoon, Charles was on his knees, searching through a box labelled ‘important.’ Boxes of papers had been upended all over the lounge, and in no particular order. Nothing he’d found so far appeared to be important at all, and most letters had faded to nothing over the years. His mother was resting on the sofa, wrapped in blankets despite the warm room. Her glassy eyes watched her son with a complete loss of comprehension on her face. Her mind was far away, where it seemed to stay for longer and longer every time.

“This is ridiculous,” Raven said as she placed a further dusty box down besides Charles. They were rapidly running out of room. “Are you sure you’re not just digging for ghosts here?”

Charles shook his head, and started making piles for the types of papers he was finding. Raven picked up the occasional letter, skim read it, then dropped it back onto the carpet. She didn’t understand what Charles was looking for, nor the apparent urgency. But Charles wasn’t about to be diverted from his task, he’d developed a kind of mania in the space of a few hours.

“Charles, are you still there?”

“Yes mother,” Charles replied, not looking up from what he was doing. “I’m right here.”

“Good, is that girl still here?”

Raven heard Charles sigh loudly at that, but again, he didn’t stop in his sorting.

“Yes mother,” he said.

“What are you even looking for?” Raven asked, not letting her mother’s words touch her. It was hard to do, when her mother was staring at her like she couldn’t really see her. And especially hard to see her still recognise Charles.  

“When I met Shaw, I did some research on him. H-fire corporation is the UK’s number one energy supplier, making billions in profit,” Charles said, not breaking his concentration for a second, eyes scanning pages with a determined expression.

“So? How is that affecting us?” Raven asked looking puzzled. “Unless you’re planning to marry him? I thought you said he was a creep.”

“H-fire was once called Xavier Corp... father co-founded the company with Kurt, years ago, before I was born,” Charles explained. It felt strange to be saying that out loud. When he’d first made the connection, it had felt like a wonderful discovery. He’d been involved once again with a part of his family history, even though he’d dismissed it soon after. It wasn’t a part of his life anymore, not that it ever had been.

“No way! Small world huh,” Raven said. She crossed her legs beneath her on the chair, and rested her head in her hand, elbow on the arm rest. She watched Charles continue with his sorting.

“That phone call this morning was to see what you wanted to do with your money Raven, now that you’re eighteen. Apparently, you’re the majority shareholder in H-fire,” Charles explained as he placed a sheet of yellowed paper in a pile. He looked up at his sister and tried to gage how much she’d understood from her face. “Meaning father didn’t sell the shares like Marko told us he did. And if H-fire makes billions a year… you’re a millionaire Raven.”

Raven frowned. Surely not, this was crazy? Their step-father wouldn’t have neglected this. But the phone call… Charles was taking it very seriously so it couldn’t be a lie. Which left Raven with a burning question.

“So, where is all the money?”

“Exactly,” Charles said. He sounded pleased that she’d come to the same conclusion that he’d obviously had. “Mother and Marko have control over the finances correct? Supposedly Father’s Will left everything to mother… or so we were told.”

“You think she’s been saving the money?” Raven asked, looking at her mother, who didn’t have the slightest clue what was being said in her presence.   

“Mother isn’t getting better,” Charles said bluntly. It was what they had both been thinking for sometime, but had left unspoken. “She’s not in a fit state to control anything, especially not our finances.”

Sharon had fallen asleep again, probably feeling safe because she could hear Charles’ voice. It was sad, but Raven resented her for this. Father hadn’t been cold in the grave before she’d jumped into a new marriage, burying his memory with new romance. To make it worse, her chosen partner was father’s business partner, Kurt Marko. It hadn’t been a nice time for anyone, especially when the money started to dry up and Sharon Xavier started to drink. Now, she was suffering the long term effects of her actions. The most apparent was her pickled brain, slowly rotting inside of her skull.

“You ought to call Moira,” Raven suggested, feeling rather worried now. Charles was making her nervous, as if he could sense something bad was looming on the horizon. He was usually right. 

“I have. She’s just got back from the States, I’m seeing her tomorrow morning,” Charles said, emptying another box. “In the meanwhile, I’m sorting these.”

The rain returned with a new sense of claustrophobia, and Raven couldn’t help but feel the heaviness of the revelation and the terror of what they might find in these papers. Dutifully, she helped Charles as best she could, following his instructions, and reading what he told her to. Her mind just couldn’t process the task beyond that. The values of the money which had moved around over the past years, was staggering. There were open accounts all over the world, relics of a time when things had been good for them. It was a life Charles and Raven barely remembered, but did mother know what the accounts were? Was this where was the money was going? Because it wasn’t in Charles or Raven’s pockets, that was for sure.

***

Charles blinked his tired eyes after waking up on the sofa. The sun had returned after yesterday’s downpour, and the air felt lighter. He’d worked late into the night sorting papers. But although he’d created a better filing system than his mother, he still felt he’d gotten nowhere. Noise from above him must have woken him, but it was suddenly impossible to ignore. Heavy footsteps were running along the landing, followed by the sound of his mother shouting her usual abuse. Charles struggled to his feet and reached the door in time to see Raven in the hallway, car keys in her hand. Her eyes were red, and her hands shaking

 “She called me a pig faced rat bastard,” she said, breathless with her distress. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“Where are you going?”

“Hank’s house. She can go fuck herself,” Raven added, screaming up at the floor above. Charles didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to warn Raven about her words, she’d regret them the moment she walked out the door. But right now, she looked ready to explode. Their mother was slowly killing them, and Raven was suffering the most.

Charles watched Raven leave, and then made the long climb up to his mother’s room. She was stood in the bathroom, bare feet on the cold tiles. She smiled as she caught sight of him in the mirror, the argument with Raven already forgotten. Charles was starting to hate her, the pain she was causing the family was too much to bear. But still, he forced a calm voice from his mouth, and helped her safely back into bed. His mother clasped her cold hand around his arm, and knowing she wouldn’t settle without him, Charles sat on the bed with her.

His mind was a buzz of noise, but nothing made sense. He thought about calling Erik, then realised he’d never asked for his number. The disappointment stayed with him until Sharon fell asleep.

***

Moira MacTaggert sat with her heart racing as she listened to Charles Xavier explain his worries. As he spoke, the concerns she had had over the years started to resurface, only suddenly, everything was glaringly clear. Kurt Marko and Sharon Xavier had divorced after only three years of marriage, and Moira had always thought it strange that Marko had remained financially involved. Technically everything was in Sharon’s name, and the majority of funds he’d never had access to, but the revenue from the H-fire Corp remained under his control.  

“I want to see my father’s Will,” Charles said once he’d finished explaining himself. “Do you have it here?”

“Of course. Just give me one moment,” Moira said, picking up her phone and requesting the article from the archives. She smiled at Charles while they waited.

“How are you Charles? I haven’t seen you in years, I fact I haven’t heard from your mother in long while either. Perhaps I should have followed up, but Mr Marko assured me things were fine,” Moira said looking incredibly guilty.

“I finished my Masters. I’m working on my PHD,” Charles said after furiously searching for something to say. For a moment, all he could think of was Erik, and discussing him was probably not the best of subjects right now. Not when things were starting to become rather complicated, and Charles had a horrible sinking feeling in his heart that it might all somehow involve Erik too.

“Oh, Charles I’m so pleased for you,” Moira said looking much brighter, and proud. Charles had always been of special interest to her, and she was glad he was making his own way in the world. It had been a tense time when Charles had declared his career intentions wouldn’t be in the family line. “It seems only yesterday that I was organising the funding with your US accountant.”

“Was mother involved in that?”

“No, Mr Marko told me to set you an allowance and organise the university fees on your behalf. I’m surprised you haven’t made any adjustments to your accounts, especially since you’ve remained at uni,” Moira said with a furrowed brow. “Unless you have without involving me… Are you sure I can’t help you with your own affairs? Are you looking to return to the estate? Or purchase new property?”

Charles thought Moira was rather jumping the gun.

“I’d need to find a well-paying job before I even think about buying anything. We can just about afford the rent right now, and my uni fees are certainly not cheap.”

Moira frowned at him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” she said.

“Our finances are a little stretched,” Charles clarified, although it seemed a little redundant. Moira must know what their situation was, especially now that he’d explained Raven’s phone call and her complete lack of finances.

“No, I still don’t understand. Even if what you’ve told me is true, that Raven hasn’t received any of her inherence to date, you and your mother should not be concerned about rent. Unless you’ve made some investments you haven’t informed me of? In which case we’ll just alter your accounts and move funds. It’s perfectly simple, I’ll be more than happy to assist you, as your family lawyer.”

“Investments? No, I’m talking about Raven’s school fees, my university fees, plus halls expenses, and Mother’s rent. It adds up. I know my allowance is generous, but, still, it feels like a pinch sometimes.”

“Charles I’m going to contact your accountant… what you’re telling me is concerning,” Moira said reaching for her phone.

Moira walked out of her office with the mobile to her ear and a determined look on her face. A moment later, an office aid arrived with the requested Will for Charles to read.

LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF, Brian Xavier.

I, Brian Xaver, an adult residing at 1407 Graymalkin Lane, Salem Center, Westchester County, New York, being of sound mind, declare this to be my Last Will and Testament. I revoke all wills and codicils previously made by me.

ARTICLE I

I appoint MacTaggert and Family as my Personal Representatives to administer this Will, and ask that they be permitted to serve without Court supervision and without posting bond.

ARTICLE II

I devise, bequeath, and give my Estate and all landings to my Wife, Sharon Xavier, to hold in trust until my son, Charles Francis Xavier will inherit upon her death.

I devise, bequeath, and leave my shares and scientific work in the field of Nuclear Energy United States Corporation to my son, Charles Francis Xavier.

I devise, bequeath, and give the sum of three billion dollars to my wife, Sharon Xavier.

I devise, bequeath, and give my shares of H-fire Corporation United Kingdom to my daughter, Raven Xavier, also to be referred to in law, as Raven Darkholme.

ARTICLE III

I devise, bequeath, and give all the rest and remainder of my residuary estate as follows:

a              50% to Charles Francis Xavier.

b             50% to Raven Xavier.

ARTICLE IV

Should any beneficiary not survive me by 30 days, his or her share shall be distributed to his or her then surviving next of kin in equal shares.

Signed: Brian Xavier  Friday 28th May 1999

Witness: Bradley MacTaggert

Witness: Abel Carter

Charles read the document through a few times, trying to make sense of everything. It was the first time he had actually seen his father’s will, which now he thought about it, rather odd. Sharon and Marko had arranged everything, and during the time of his father’s death, he’d been too young and too distraught to argue. He’d had no reason not to trust them, especially not his mother. But it was with rather a shock that he realised how much his father had left behind, and how little control he had over any of it.

The shares he had been left, would be in the hands of his accountant in New York. Without any interference, his money would be piling up somewhere, which would explain where his allowance was coming from. But, nothing explained why he had never been informed of any of this. How could all of this have been left to him without him knowing? Supposedly it was all just ticking along without him ever being involved. So once again, where was all the money going?

His mother had been given a fortune. Where was that? And Raven? He had no idea what was happening there. She’d never received anything, other than what mother had given her in order to get by on. Not that they were struggling in the grand scheme of things, but Moira seemed to be under the impression they had money to burn, and clearly, somewhere in the world, they did. It just wasn’t accessible.

“I don’t understand this,” Charles said as Moria returned, looking rather harassed, and now holding a coffee as well as the phone.

“I would appreciate it if you could look into that Mr Summers. I think you understand how serious this is, and my client is very concerned. As am I. I will expect to hear from you later today.”

Moira hung up, and looked at Charles with a slightly fearful look in her eyes.

“I must offer you an apology Mr Xavier, it seems my office, and myself has been very neglectful in our duties towards you and your sister,” Moira said, setting her coffee down with a rather shaking hand. “I fear there has been some fraudulent activity concerning your finances, committed by those meant to safeguard your future. I can only apologise again, and assure you that I and my colleagues will do all in our power to investigate and assist you in perusing justice.”

Charles simply stared at her, his hand still clutching at his father’s will.

“You’re going to have explain this from the beginning,” he said, not having understood a thing. What he did know was, this was not what he’d wanted to hear. Moira had been supposed to say, everything is fine Charles, and the phone call was just asking for some details, here’s a sum of money your father left for Raven, bye bye now. But no, he’d just opened up a can of worms, and there was no way of putting the lid back on.

Then, as Moira spoke, and the hours ticked by, he was sure that the world had exploded.

“So, you are telling me that my step-father still has control over my mother’s money, and it’s all gone? And not only that, he has redirected my sisters fortune somewhere unknown, and I have a savings account in the US that’s untouched and overflowing…” Charles said, summing up two hours of conversation in a weary statement. “This is crazy, it can’t be real.”

Moira equally looked as if she couldn’t believe what was happening.

“You think Marko has stolen Raven’s money,” Charles said.

“Yes, I do. I can’t see where else it could have gone. Summers, your accountant, says your US account has remained untouched, apart from the regular transfer of money into your bank here. But as for Raven, the funds are gone. Moved.”

Charles bit his lip in thought.

“Marko’s still living in the house. The estate. Mother left him behind and we all moved here… he stayed in my house. My father’s house!”

“Charles I swear I’ll not rest until we find the truth,” Moira promised, feeling the most disappointed in herself she ever had. How had she missed this? How could she have neglected this family so badly? All it had taken was one phone call, and now it was all so clear. 


	5. The Six O'clock News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles's silence is broken when he turns up again on Friday night. Then, Erik finds out just how much of a mess he and Charles are really in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left kudos! We continue down the path of angst and the plot become more tangled. Man I don't make things easy for myself.

Friday night came around with a vengeance, and since Erik had nothing better to do, he was here at the Belvoir once more with Emma. By Wednesday he’d given up trying to figure Charles out. He’d tried calling him, but there had been no answer. He’d sent a message, but no reply. He’d sent another text asking Charles to call him, but nothing. Now, Erik was beginning to regret sounding so keen, because Charles clearly wasn’t interested any more. It worried Erik more than anything, what had happened? Things had been going so well, at least until… still, no matter what, it hurt.

So, here he was, another terrible Friday night out with Sebastian Shaw. To make it worse, it was boyfriend Friday, and Azazel wasn’t here to distract him. Emma had for once found someone to her liking at the bar, and Erik had been abandoned amongst Shaw’s other guests. He was determined just to make it through the dinner, and then call it. He’d not touched a drop of alcohol since he’d arrived, feeling tired but also, on edge. This was where he’d met Charles, in this very seat, at this very table. Charles had just appeared out of nowhere and turned his world upside down. Now, just as quickly, he was gone.

“Ah, Erik, meet my friend,” Sebastian said as he pulled out a chair for a skinny, messy haired, young man.

Oh God, Erik thought, not another one. When would it end? Who did Shaw think he was fooling? Everyone had to know, no one could be so stupid as to think Shaw was this appealing? Then again, it seemed everyone else at the table thought he must be a catch, since no one ever said a thing.  Where the hell was Emma when he needed her? Why tonight of all nights had she decided to go flirt with strangers?

“Nice to meet you,” Erik said, going through the motions once more.

It didn’t take long to realise that this boy was on some serious chemicals, and was as high as a kite. His name was Sean, and he sure as hell knew how to eat. For someone so tiny, he ate like a starving caveman. Shaw continued to talk about one mindless thing after another, until he suddenly went silent, and his expression became furious. Erik almost shivered in the sudden coldness of the moment, and turned to look over his shoulder. What he saw rendered him speechless, because once again, out of nowhere there was Charles.  

“What the hell are you doing here?” Shaw snapped, his chair scraping roughly on the floor as he stood. The boy next to him froze also, looking sheepish. “You got tired of your new man did you? Thought you come back to me? I’m not interested anymore Charles, you see, I’ve moved on.”

Erik looked at Sean, who had sunk as low as he could in his chair, and was looking anywhere he could save for in Charles’ direction.

“I know what you’ve been doing Shaw,” Charles said, coming to stand next to Erik, his hands on the table as he leaned forward.

“Charles? What are you doing?” Erik asked, not looking away from Shaw, who looked as if he was ready to swing at Charles. Charles turned to look at him, and Erik knew right there at the secret was out.

“Oh, I see, took him home for yourself did you Erik?” Shaw asked mockingly, followed by a laugh. “How’s that working out for you? Got any yet?”

“Shut up!” Charles shouted at him, taking hold of Erik’s glass of water and throwing it at Shaw. The water hit him across his chest, and immediately he moving. Shaw was around the table before Erik could even react, and had grabbed Charles by the collar of his shirt.

“I’ll kill you, you little bastard!” he hissed.

 Erik got to his feet, but Charles’ hand pushed him away.

“You’ve been scamming shareholders,” Charles choked out, all the while being pressed into the table, almost bent backwards, and struggling to free himself. Shaw let him go instantly, and stepped back. Erik noticed the security which had suddenly arrived around them all, and realised Charles had pushed him back to avoid more trouble.

“You watch what you’re saying Charles,” Shaw warned, only this time looking rattled.

“You’re over Shaw,” Charles told him, standing up straighter. “The name Darkholme mean anything to you?”

Shaw turned a deathly pale at the mention of the name, so much so that Erik worried if he was even still breathing.

“You know nothing,” Shaw said taking another step forward so that he could look directly into Charles face. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

Shaw turned on his heal and stormed out.

“I don’t know what was, but it was brilliant,” Erik said, reaching forward to take Charles’ hand. Charles looked down towards Erik’s touch. “You OK?”

It seemed to take Charles an age to come out of his haze, but as he did the fire disappeared from his eyes, and his face became said. He moved his hand out of Erik’s reach.

“No Erik, I’m not OK. My lawyer says I’m not to contact you, but I needed to see you. I knew you’d be here… it was stupid to come, but I just wanted to say,” Charles mumbled before he looked up. “I trust you Erik. I know you’re not involved, and I’m really sorry for what is happening.”

“What?”

“I have to go. I’m sorry. Don’t follow me,” Charles said looking distracted. “I’ll call you.”

But by Monday there was still no phone call from Charles, and again, Erik couldn’t contact him. Then, the mystery started to lighten as he switched on the six O’clock news.

_Kurt Marko was arrested today regarding allegations of fraud, and has been remanded in custody pending charges. The sixty one year old, former husband of multi-millionaire Sharon Xavier, is the co-founder of H-fire corporation, and had until recent years still kept a managerial role in many of the Xavier family’s  other financial ventures. US authorities were alerted to the potentially criminal activity by transatlantic legal firm, MacTaggert and family, based here in London. Although no official comment has been released from the Xavier family at present, their lawyer Moira MacTaggert has arrived at their London property. She has so far been unavailable for questioning. The family are not expected to be involved in any criminal activity and are assisting police with their enquires. We will be reporting live, as the story unfolds. This is Jean Grey, BBC news._

_More to come on the news tonight, we reveal one woman’s story, held at gun point in broad daylight, and how one man became a local hero after rescuing…._

Erik had stared at the TV in mute horror. A clip of Charles standing on his doorstep being bombarded with questions kept looping through the segment, followed by the alleged offender Kurt Marko being escorted to a police car, and then back to the reporter standing outside of the UK magistrate’s court. Charles Xavier. It all made sense now. Charles’ personality had screamed wealthy, his education wasn’t frugal, and his name, which had seemed so familiar now had a reason to be so. Back in the 90s the name Xavier had been as associated with money as Rockefeller. These days the family was more subdued, and hardly ever mentioned. Until now. Clearly, since they’d taken to residing in an old Victorian townhouse in the middle of an ordinary suburban road. It didn’t make any sense.

God Erik was an idiot. No wonder Charles was so twitchy around him. He’d probably been trying to second guess his motives all the time. And did Shaw know? It seemed unlikely somehow. Surely Shaw wouldn’t have treated Charles like crap if he’d known. Shaw was a slimy git, who’d have been very careful not to let Charles have any reason to leave him. Erik wondered whether he should call, but Charles had said he wasn’t allowed to contact him. He didn’t want to think about why. So that meant the decision was in Charles’ hands. Only, now he sat looking at his phone, waiting for it to ring.

A few minutes later the screen lit up, the tune began to play, and Erik jumped. Surely not? No. It was Emma.

“Erik, are you watching the news?” she asked. “Sebastian just called me, he’s going nuts, the police are at the office, they’ve taken over the building, and an investigating team is coming in. It’s going to cost the company millions in lost revenue. The fuck!”

Erik sat dumbfounded. It hadn’t registered in his head until Emma had said it out loud, because his mind had so full of Charles. No, this was a total shitstorm and no wonder Charles wasn’t calling him.  H-fire corp, _his_ company had been the company mentioned. So, Charles Xavier, Sharon Xavier, Kurt Marko…  they were all connected to H-fire?

“Hello? Erik, are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here. What’s happening?” Erik asked, flipping back to the twenty four hour news channel to hear the story again.

“That kid we met last Friday, the cute one, he was named Charles Xavier, yes?” Emma asked. Erik affirmed her question and she continued. “Yeah, I thought so. Seemed a little cocky brat to me, so I Googled him.”

“Googled him? That’s a real thing?”

“Xavier,” she replied ignoring Erik’s question. “That’s not a common name is it? Now, this is where it gets good… you’ve been following the news yes? Brian Xavier is Charles’ father. Who, get this, is the co-founder of H-fire Corporations, which he set up  back in the seventies with a man named Kurt Marko.”

“Ok,” Erik said feeling the pieces of the puzzle start to come together a little bit.

“Brian Xavier died about ten years ago, and Marko married Charles’ mother, Sharon Xavier.”

Suddenly all Erik could picture was the woman standing in the doorway, her eyes glaring at him as he touched her son. It made Erik feel uncomfortable listening to Emma tell him all of this, when she had no idea he’d become a part of their lives. However briefly it had been.

“Then they divorced. I don’t know who this Raven Darkholme is, but Marko has been accused of stealing her money,” Emma finished sounding pleased with her detective work.

“You found all of that via Google?” Erik asked. How the hell had he not realised this himself? The company’s history was no secret, he’d researched the Xavier’s himself before he’d applied for the job. Only, nothing had ever mentioned Charles, or any of these revelations.

“Sure, it’s all over the BBC news website, go look. Charles Xavier is like the heir to the planet. The family is rich, or, at least _he_ is. Brian Xavier was involved in all sorts of other things too, loads of secret government stuff in the US and space rockets or some shit for NASA …. Shaw is going spare, thinks Charles was spying on him or some bullshit. It would make sense; why else would he be interested in Shaw?”

“I don’t believe that,” Erik said without a second of hesitation. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh, you know do you?” Emma asked sceptically.

“Yes, I do. He wouldn’t do that,” Erik told her firmly.

He heard Emma groan in disappointment on the phone.

“Oh God please no, you didn’t?” she said, realisation clear in her voice, conviction growing stronger as she spoke. “Oh my God Erik, why? Are you insane? This is a fucking mess that we’re all in, and you’ve been sleeping with the boy who’s now accusing our boss of fraud.”

“He neglected to mention it to me. And yes, I have been seeing him, and it has nothing to do with Shaw. Now, because of all this, it’s over, so don’t tell me it’s a fucking mess, because I know it is!”

The emotion in Erik’s voice made Emma pause; she’d never heard him care that much over anything. She’d had plenty of things to say to him on the subject, but now, she bit her tongue. What did it matter? She’d done nothing she needed to hide, and neither had Erik. This was Shaw’s problem, let him wallow in it. Instead she advised Erik not to contact Charles until it was over, knowing the press were all over the boy right now and the last thing anyone needed was another story in the papers. But she also knew her advice would fall on deaf ears, Erik would do what he wanted to regardless. So she wished him well, good luck for the next few days and hung up.

***

Erik never made it into work the next day; instead he’d been forced to spend ten terrible hours at the police station. It felt as if his life was being ripped to shreds, and when he was free to go, he’d returned to his hotel to fall into a restless and fitful sleep. He remained in an uncomfortable state until the alarm woke him for the start of a new working day. With great reluctance he’d arrived at his office to find the place being ransacked by investigators. Only a few staff members had managed to get past the police, and were doggedly still trying to do their jobs. One of which was Erik’s PA, Angel, who was looking frazzled.

“Erik, they’ve taken everything, all the files, and your computer. I couldn’t stop them,” she said hurrying over to him as soon as he arrived.

Erik took a deep breath and strode towards his office, with Angel following along behind him still looking harassed.  

“Good, the quicker they look through everything, the quicker this ends,” he said, knowing there would be nothing quick about this at all. It might take years for any evidence to be found, and then again, it might take seconds. It all depended on what they were looking for, and what had happened. But since Erik had nothing at all to do with accounts, or business finances, this invasion was somewhat futile.

“I guess. But…”

“Take the rest of the day off Angel, have a break,” Erik told her feeling worn out. She tried to protest for a moment, but one look at Erik’s face was all she needed to start collecting her things. There was no way the office would be operational in its present state. So that left only one thing to do, and that was damage control.

Erik began sending supportive emails to staff via the only laptop which hadn’t been removed and with no Shaw to consult; he released a statement with Emma to the press. He knew people would be panicking, H-fire corp supplied most of the country’s energy, and there could be chaos if people thought their power might be cut off in all the drama. Of course it wouldn’t be, but rumours spread. Especially now Shaw had been arrested also.

By seven in the evening, Erik had had enough of press conferences, and interviews. He’d had enough of defending himself and his company. No, there would be disruption to customers, no H-fire was not at risk of becoming bankrupt, no he didn’t know what had happened to the money, no he didn’t know it had been happening. Yes, he had been interviewed, and no he had not been charged. Emma hadn’t fared much better either, but at last, they managed to get away.

By the time he made it back to the hotel, Shaw had been bailed. It was going to be another night of eating takeaway Chinese, and watching the news in disbelief. After seeing enough of Shaw’s miserable face on the screen to last a lifetime, and feeling full of unhealthy food, Erik was about to doze off in his chair, when the static phone on the wall began to ring. The only people who called that phone were the hotel staff on the front desk, so rather grudgingly Erik got up to answer it.

“Mr Lehnsherr, sorry your interrupt you, but you have a visitor.”

Erik frowned. He was not in the mood for this.

“Who is it?” he demanded, knowing his tone wasn’t polite.

“I don’t know sir, he won’t give me his name,” the woman replied sounding rather harassed. “I know you said not to let anyone in, but, he’s…”

“Would you pass him the phone please,” Erik said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He’d already warned the receptionist that reporters might try getting in, and that he was very sorry for the inconvenience he was bound to cause them. Clearly they hadn’t remembered that, and the person who was trying to sneak in to interview him was about to get an earful.

“Erik it’s me,” came Charles’ voice as soon as the received was passed over. “I didn’t know what to do… I didn’t know where to go…”

“Charles?”

“Yes.”

“Right, don’t move, just stay where you are. I’m coming down.” Erik slammed the phone back on the hook, grabbed his key and ran out the door, furiously hitting the lift call button.

Charles was waiting for him, sitting on the sofa by the wall. His head was bowed, and it took him what seemed like forever to lift his head. He’d been crying, that much was obvious, his eyes were bloodshot and his face puffy. His clothes were crumpled as if he’d been wearing them for a while, and as he turned his head slightly, Erik could see a scratch along his cheek, maybe a few days old.

“My mother is in hospital, Raven’s run away and there are reporters outside my house,” he said quietly.

“You don’t need to explain anything to me, come on,” Erik said, helping him stand, and keeping his arm tight around him as he walked him to the lift. All the way up, Charles leant against him, fingers digging into his shirt.

***

Erik watched Charles eat the last of his noodles, with the achingly slow movements of someone who was moments from falling asleep where he sat. His eyes stared straight ahead, too tired to speak as he gazed unseeingly at the TV screen. Finally, once Erik was certain Charles could manage to eat no more, he switched the TV off. Charles didn’t even seem to notice.

“Charles, you need some sleep,” Erik said, gently taking the takeaway container from his hands. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Charles just blinked at him, no argument left in him. He followed Erik like a shadow, into the bedroom he’d slept in before, and stood in silence. Erik left him to undress wishing he could do something more to help, but he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Things had become far too complicated lately, so Erik, returned to the lounge. As he tidied up he thought about how for the second time, Charles had placed his trust in him. Despite everything, when he was at his most vulnerable, he’d turned to Erik. It was strange, anyone else and he’d have felt the imposition, but not Charles. Erik was glad he was here, because if Charles was here, then he was safe. No matter what problems would follow in his wake.

Charles’ door was open again, probably from habit of having to listen for his mother’s voice. Peering in, he saw that Charles had thrown his clothes on the floor, and had wrapped himself up tight. Erik set a glass of water on the table beside him, and watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. Satisfied that Charles was in a deep relaxed sleep, Erik closed his door as he left feeling wearier and happier than ever. 


	6. Dirty, Filthy, Safety.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles finds himself seeking safety with Erik, and ends up giving into his need of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Lord, she's at it again with the porn writing. Thank you to everyone leaving kudos, you're all kicking my butt into action. Was feeling poorly today, so what better to cheer myself up with but Cherik :D

Erik woke to the feeling of someone lying next to him, a presence just an inch away from touching. For a while, his mind wouldn’t work as he rolled over to see Charles’ asleep beside him. His hair was damp, suggesting he’d been in the shower, and he was wearing the hotel robe once again. It was like reality had collapsed, and in the confusion of rebuilding, had pulled its script straight out of Erik’s fantasies. Erik didn’t dare move, if Charles woke, then the moment would be over. Right now, there were an infinitive number of realities, all sorts of ways in which Erik could keep Charles with him, but once Charles opened his eyes, Erik knew, he’d be at his mercy once more. Because from the moment Erik had met him, Charles, no matter what happened, called the shots.

“I’m hungry,” Charles mumbled, his eyes still closed, fingers creeping forward and suddenly holding onto Erik’s arm.

Erik didn’t reply, but instead decided to test the waters. Charles wasn’t backwards in coming forward, he’d done pretty much everything he could to show Erik he was interested, and so far only circumstance had kept them apart. Bad timing and problems that couldn’t be avoided had followed them right from the very start. Erik didn’t know what was happening in Charles’ life, or who he really was, or what Shaw had been doing, or Marko… But right now it didn’t matter, because whatever the answers, it all came back to the fact that it had brought Charles to him.

Erik pushed his arm under Charles’ shoulders, and hugged him closer. Charles fell against him like a doll, still half asleep, his head resting on Erik’s chest. Erik paused, waiting for Charles to complain, but nothing, until Charles moved his leg to find a more comfortable position. Erik held his breath as Charles moved himself closer still, hands sliding across his chest, leg wrapping across Erik’s waist.

Charles felt as if he was floating in a sea of uncertainty. His world as he’d known it had been a lie, he’d been defrauded by people he’d trusted, and the only person who he could rely on now was Raven. But it wasn’t fair to ask for her help, Raven had been struggling with their mother for so long, that this new problem was one too many for her. She’d sought solace with Hank, which had left Charles with no one to turn to but Erik. Charles’ heart told him to trust. Erik would never have been a part of Shaw’s scam. He was a good and honest man. Erik had had no reason to help him, or care about him and yet he had. Charles felt ashamed of how he’d behaved, wishing he could have met Erik at another time.

Frowning, Charles pushed the thought away. He could feel the headache returning, the one that had been plaguing him for days, and he forced himself to relax. Instead he focused on the feel of Erik’s body under his, bigger, stronger, warm, it promised safety. His arms held him tight like a cage, but it didn’t make Charles feel trapped, rather, he felt protected. Nothing could reach him here, and it was worth the risk. This feeling, it was rare, more so than love, more than anything in the world. It was worth risking everything for, and Charles was tired of playing it safe. He’d been reckless with his body before now, but never with his heart. He decided right there, to throw everything he’d been holding onto with white knuckles, up into the air and see where it would land.

He moved, and instantly Erik’s arms released him. But instead of pulling away, Charles pushed himself up onto his elbow, and inched further and further across Erik’s middle until he was straddling him. Leaning low against his chest, ready to pounce, smiling as he felt Erik’s breath hitch under him. Erik gripped his hips in a steadying motion.

“What are you doing?”

“Do you want to play that game again?” Charles asked, hands moving underneath Erik’s shirt, running slowly upwards, until they reached his shoulders. “The maybe game? Because if you did… maybe I would kiss you here…”

Charles dipped his head between his arms, where Erik’s shirt had ridden up, and licked a line from navel downwards, stopping at the drawstring of Erik’s pyjama pants.

“Christ!” Erik said, sitting up abruptly. Charles, still holding onto his shoulders was forced to sit backwards. “Charles.”

“Maybe…” Charles continued, hands dropping down to find that piece of string, and tug it free from its knot. He looked upwards, and found there was a worried look in Erik’s eye. He’d been startled and it wasn’t what Charles had wanted to see. So he leant forward, touching Erik tenderly on his face, before he pressed his lips to his.

Erik made him dizzy. There was something about him so far above what was reachable that Charles knew he’d never see, never possess, and never know him completely. The man was full of secrets; maybe no one had ever gotten close to him. But Charles was going to make Erik worry, make him scared that he might see inside, that Charles might just be the one to clutch at his soul and hold it in flighty nervous hands. He could shake Erik down to his very core, and make him certain he was about to fall apart. And Charles knew this, because he was going to give up everything for this man, and Erik was going to know it.

Charles knew right there, that Erik was the one you waited for. The one you kept others at distance for, because when you finally let someone in, he had to be the one who you knew would rip your heart out if he ever walked away. What was the point of anything else? It was right there, as Erik kissed his neck with such aching tenderness, that Charles knew he was in love with this man. He couldn’t say it, he could barely even acknowledge it, but it was there.      

“I’ll order breakfast,” Erik said, watching Charles’ eyes open and look at him with disappointment. It wasn’t that Erik didn’t want this, he’d been dreaming of this. He wanted Charles, and he wanted to keep Charles around. Forever.

Charles took his pancakes out onto the balcony and stood up to eat them, looking down on the rush of traffic below. Erik watched him from the lounge, with a strange feeling of contentment in his heart. His feelings for Charles were growing stronger, and he found all he wanted to do was protect him. Only, Charles always had his own agenda.

“Any photographers out there?” Erik asked as Charles brought his empty plate back inside.

“Don’t think so,” Charles replied not looking too worried. “I don’t care if they know I’m here with you.”

He smiled shyly, and stood in front of Erik looking nervous. Erik didn’t move, too afraid that if he did, Charles wouldn’t continue with what he clearly wanted to say.

“I feel safe with you,” Charles said. “I never felt that before.”

Erik stood, gently took the plate from Charles’ hands and set it down. Charles’ eyes followed his movements with wide anxious eyes, his breathing growing rapid. Erik cupped his face, and looked into his eyes as he spoke.

“Then stay with me Charles,” Erik whispered. “And don’t be scared anymore.”

But Charles was scared, he was cared of what Erik made him feel, and about what staying would mean. Although he’d been wavering back and forth between pushing Erik for more, and from running away, Charles still wasn’t sure what he wanted today. But as he followed Erik back into the bedroom, every step started to feel like a dream, and the why didn’t seem to matter anymore. Charles had spent far too much of his life worrying about what would happen next and never letting go, now he wished he could be more like Erik, who didn’t seem scared by anything. 

Erik laid Charles back against the mattress, holding his hand against Charles’ stomach to keep him from sitting up. He was gentle with him, no need to hurry, no need to prove anything. With his other hand, Erik untied the robe, and felt Charles’ heart racing under his touch. Charles’ face was flushed, and his expression was nervous. His hands sought out Erik for reassurance, gasping his shoulders, and sliding up into his hair.

“Kiss me,” Erik told him. He leant forward and let Charles take control for a moment, the kiss steadying him, and with Charles feeling less exposed he sighed instead of shied when Erik’s hand ran down his stomach.

As Charles’ kiss moved to Erik’s neck, still tender, his hands moved with a complete wonderment of the situation he’d found himself in. But as Erik’s hands returned the sensitive touch moving lower until they slid between Charles’ thighs, reaching his cock, Charles jumped from the shock of being touched so suddenly.

“Oh my God,” he spluttered, blood rushing downwards. For a moment Charles’ vision blurred, and as his body forced him to relax back, he had the vague impression that Erik was grinning at him. He had no sense of time, and it felt as if only a second later he was hard, and Erik’s hand was wet. Erik’s touch moved up and down gently, his whole fist grasping him, pulling him towards promised ecstasy.   

But once again, Charles started to feel self-conscious.

“Look at me Charles, “Erik whispered. Why couldn’t Charles see how perfect he was? “Don’t be shy with me.” Erik leant in to kiss him, his lips moving like his slow and perfect rhythm, push, pull, but not enough. Charles opened his mouth to taste him, moving forward to seek him, but never close enough. Erik pulled away, leaving Charles’ mouth free to whimper.

Erik let go of him. Charles was thrown back roughly from what had been building, and seemed to sink with desperation into the bed covers. Erik leant over Charles and towards the bedside table, pulled open the drawer and found what he was looking for. He was going to fuck Charles Xavier, and he was going to do it right. Charles’ eyes followed his actions in a daze, unable to move.

“I am going to fuck you now,” Erik said, watching Charles’ eye widen.

“Yes, I know,” he replied, as if it had been his idea all along. Of course it hadn’t, not this time, but it seemed as if it was a habit Charles couldn’t break. “Y-you’re going to fuck me Erik.”

Hearing Charles’ voice shake as he spoke had no business turning Erik on, but it did all the same. It swelled him with pride. He’d done that. He’d rattled Charles and shook his public schoolboy accent into a stammer. With frantic movements he helped Charles discard all remaining clothes, no finesse or preamble now.  

“Oh God,” Erik mumbled as he crawled back over Charles, both lost in looking at each other. Just the act of touching Charles had gotten Erik excited; it was the thought, the feel of Charles, the knowing of what was to come. He’d needed nothing more.

But now Charles had that smile on his face, the one that meant Erik would soon lose control, the one that meant trouble. Charles had already seized the lube from him, his enthusiasm scattering the condoms all over the bed, his hand frantically searching the sheet to gasp one. Erik grabbed his hips, roughly dragging him down the bed further, shocking Charles motionless. Without warning, his took Charles’ cock into his mouth. Charles tensed beneath him, and Erik pulled back slowly, his tongue feeling his way carefully to the tip. 

“Ah, fuck,” Charles gasped. He wanted to tell Erik, _more of that_. Be rough, talk dirty, but it must have showed in his eyes, because Erik didn’t need to be told. Without warning, he pushed Charles’ legs apart further and held his knees bent, pushing them back up against Charles’ middle.

“You could get under my skin,” Erik told him, before licking his way downwards, tongue touching Charles’ balls with the faintest tease of them also being overwhelmed by his torturous mouth.

“Tell me how,” Charles begged, his arms flung out to his sides in complete surrender. “Erik, I need your cock.”

“I know that,” Erik said, crawling closer, and resting one of Charles’ legs on his shoulder. With his now free hand, he reached down to cup Charles’ balls, feeling them move under his fingers, his skin soft. “You’ve been waiting all your life I don’t doubt. Waiting for my cock.”

From the way Charles shiver in response, Erik knew he had got it right. Charles was looking to be dominated, the little pretty twink had kinks after all. He wanted to lie in complete surrender to another. The mystery of Charles Xavier was starting to unravel itself, and now that Erik knew the game, he felt as if he’d just be handed the key to making Charles his.  

“Put that lube on my fingers,” Erik told him in a direct tone, no arguing, and splaying his hand over Charles’ stomach. He held him down, leaning forward again so that Charles was almost bent double. He looked so frustrated, trying to do as Erik instructed, and not being able to move. He squeezed the tube until the gel ran over Erik’s fingers.

Erik smeared it across Charles’ stomach, coating his fingers.

“Are you going to do what I tell you, Charles?” Erik asked, a finger poised at Charles’ hole. “You’re going to be nice and quiet while I stretch you open. Can you be quiet?”

Charles was nodding, his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth. Charles didn’t do quiet. He hadn’t been quiet from the moment Erik had met him. He’d fail this, but he’d try. Erik’s finger pushed into him with a familiar burn, the slide had been easy, but Erik hadn’t stopped. He’d breached him, curled his finger upwards and brushed along his walls. Charles clenched down, he wanted to cry out, to tell Erik to do that again. A stuttered breath escaped him with a slight moan, and Erik paused.

“I told you to be quiet,” Erik said, pulling his finger away, and without warning, replacing it with two. It was too much, Charles’ head tipped back, his eyes screwed tight shut, his breath held. Erik felt his body move around him, his leg on his shoulder pulling him closer still. Charles’ heel dug into his back, moving to trap Erik where he knelt.

Charles was beautiful. Had their paths not crossed that night, but on another, Erik would never have looked at him. Or rather, he would have looked at him, and stared longingly at him, then left to create a private memory of him whist touching himself in the shower. Boys like Charles weren’t real. Shaw had shown him that. They came with price tags on their time and lies on their lips, and they certainly weren’t interested in emotionally stunted people like himself. Or at least, they weren’t after the night was over. But Charles… must be an angel of some kind, personification of perfection, innocent faced, with beautiful eyes. A filth speaking angel, sent to force Erik into sin. Erik didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this moment, but he was going to fuck Charles Xavier like it was his last night on earth. He would sin, and follow Charles into a hell made from this bliss.

Erik pulled away, wiped his fingers on the sheets, and took the opened condom from Charles’ lax hand. He’d relaxed again, as Erik had pulled away, Charles allowed himself to breathe. He barely moved as Erik pushed in, slowly, inch by inch, until he could go no more, and stopped.

Erik had closed his eyes at the sensation of overwhelming heat from Charles’ body, and the feeling of being touched everywhere, all at once, every part of his cock held by Charles. As he opened his eyes, he found Charles was looking back at him, his mouth parted, a glazed kind of look to his expression.

“I want to take you slowly,” Erik said, moving his hips back as he’d promised, slowly, pulling himself almost free and then pushing back in. “Fuck, Charles, that’s good.”

Charles thought he was going crazy. Having someone buried so deep into him, and not being able to scream was winding him up so tight he thought he might burst. Erik’s devilishly slow strokes were bringing him close to something that was building, and building, a release that he knew would leave him helpless. He could feel his orgasm already, and his hands scrabbled upwards, pushing at Erik’s chest.

“If you come, can you come again later?” Erik asked, still, moving in that depraved slow way, in, out, so controlled.

There was…. a later? Charles’ mind was losing it. Erik was nowhere close yet, he was only just starting, stretching Charles to be used. Oh God, it was too cruel to make him wait. He wanted it now. Wanted Erik to slam into him, over and over, and all too soon his legs were shaking, his body shivering, and then Erik’s cock was gone, leaving him empty, and he came. He heard himself cry out, unable to hold it in anymore, then Erik’s hand was on his cock, holding it far too tight. It was painful as he came round from his brief moment of heaven. Erik had stopped him, held him back. The edge had gone, but he was still painfully hard, Erik’s hand stroking him once more.

“I lied, I’m not going to let you come,” Erik said, the grin on his face growing wicked as Charles realised what had happened. “Now get on your knees.”

Charles was shaking, holding himself up on his knees as Erik fucked him from behind. This time he wasn’t slow, or gentle, but ruthless. As soon as Charles had turned over, he’d been pulled back onto Erik’s cock, and slammed forward. He’d long given up on being silent, and was moaning with every thrust.

“You fucking want this,” Erik said as he continued, hands holding Charles’ hips up. “Relax, come on.”

“Yes, yes, harder, oh God!” Charles cried, unable to hold himself up anymore, and collapsing on the bed. He couldn’t move, his body belonging to Erik, being broken, remade, used until he was nothing but a mass of shaking and crying. “Erik please!”

Erik rolled him over again. The forcefulness in which Erik threw him around made Charles into a submissive toy. He’d never lost control of himself like this before, not even able to hold up his own bodyweight. Erik was doing just the right amount of rough mixed with just the right amount of filthy words, that Charles’ mind had gone. He cried out as Erik pushed his legs up once more and held them back against his chest. He could barely see straight as Erik sank into him again.

Charles was relaxed now, open to Erik’s cock, taking him in like he was made to. He felt so good, tight and hot, and the noises he made had been worth waiting for. Erik knew he could do whatever he wanted to him right now, move him however he liked, fuck him however he liked. God, it was too good.

“Talk to me Charles,” Erik told him, as he pushed himself faster, hearing his body slam against Charles’ in a relentless beat.

“I love your cock,” Charles moaned, once more following instruction and immediately telling Erik what he wanted to hear. “You’re going to make me come.”

Erik watched Charles slip over into oblivion, his eyes rolling back into his head, hands gripping desperately at the sheets. Erik slowed his pace to watch, feeling Charles clench around him. Charles gasped, and his mouth opened in a silent scream as his world exploded. Erik held himself on the brink, until he felt Charles moan under him and his body shake, then he couldn’t wait anymore.

With Charles now sated, and pliant in his arms, Erik rolled him over once more, pressed him flat against the mattress. Charles’ fingers dug into the sides of the pillow as Erik fucked him, fast and hard until he came. Charles panted against the pillows, his oversensitive cock rubbing against the sheets, too exhausted to move. It was a selfish thing to do, using him in so hard a way to finish, but Erik couldn’t stop. He shattered inside of him, fingers digging into Charles, nails scraping over skin. Charles could feel Erik tense up, held suddenly still inside him, then his cock withdrew, leaving Charles feeling lost. Charles stretched a hand out to find Erik, as he collapsed beside him. He watched Erik lazily pulled himself free of the condom, in a sort of careless motion and stare up at the ceiling in complete wonderment. His hand moved to touch Charles, resting on the back of his thigh, checking he was real and not a dream.

Charles was sticky to touch, sweat, come and lube all over him, obscenely dirty. Erik thought it was the best he’d ever looked, as he crawled into his arms.         


	7. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven realises that she needs to stand on her own two feet, freeing Charles of some of his cares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating, but I want been working like a demon on my Secret Mutant Challenge fic. The challenge is still anonymous, so I can't link the fic yet. 
> 
> But as the challenge is over, I am back and this fic has my full attention again. 
> 
> Thank you for all the Kudos, I couldn't believe I made it over 100!

Erik felt himself floating on the brink between being awake, and that wonderful moment of calm that preceded sleep. He remained with his eyes closed until he realised his hand was no longer touching Charles. He hadn’t felt him move, but now, he was gone. Sitting up with a slight panic, he realised Charles wasn’t in the room at all, and dread started to fill him. No, this wasn’t supposed to happen. Not with Charles. Charles wasn’t supposed to get scared and run. Not like all the others. Erik grabbed his trousers and pulled them on in a panicked rush. How long had Charles been missing?

“Charles!” he called, trying not to let the worry into his voice. His only reply was the slight thud of a door hitting a wall. Charles was in the spare room. “What are you doing?”

Charles looked just as distressed as he had last night, as he sat almost fully dressed, trying to tie the laces on his shoes. All he needed was his jacket, and then he’d be gone. A moment more, and Erik might have missed him completely. He wouldn’t meet Erik’s eye once he’d finished at his task, and walked as if he meant to sidestep around him. Erik found himself grabbing hold of Charles as he passed the doorframe with trembling hands, pushing him against the wall.

“You can’t leave,” Erik begged, not caring what he sounded like. Not after all of this. Not after all that Charles had made him feel, and made him believe. It couldn’t have all been for nothing. Not just for that one moment together, it wasn’t enough, it had felt like the beginning, not the end.

“Erik I shouldn’t have come here, I’ve made everything worse.”

Charles was strong, surprisingly so as he pushed Erik away.

“I don’t deserve to be here. I have to leave.”

“What are you talking about?” Erik asked his heart racing. What had he done wrong? Had he rushed Charles? No, it had felt so right. This could be his doing, this was circumstance again. Having been freed of his burdens whilst in Erik’s arms, they must have returned with a crushing force when Charles had remembered them. Charles must have felt his silent pleading, because his eyes finally rose from where they had fixed on Erik’s shoes.

Charles’ eyes were the first thing that Erik had noticed. The brightness behind them was what had separated him from the rest of the other pretty faces. Now, this might very well be the last time he saw them. He needed to calm Charles down.

“None of what has happened is your fault,” Erik told him, trying to keep his voice calm. But Charles was shaking his head.

“I’m going to find Raven, and then I’m going to visit my mother. I should have done that last night, and I would have, if I wasn’t so fucking selfish. I’m sorry Erik,” Charles said, and after a moment of anguished silence between them he added, “Please don’t follow me,” as if he could hear Erik’s mind working out ways to keep him.

“Please Charles… I think I love you,” Erik blurted, hurrying after Charles as he fled into the lounge. Charles hesitated in his step, turned to face Erik, but kept just out of reach. There were tears in his eyes now, he looked confused and guilty.

“You think?”

“Don’t make this difficult Charles,” Erik begged, not caring any more about how he sounded. “I’m not playing with you, this is real. I care about you. Don’t shut me out.”

Charles looked at him as if he was in great pain, not knowing where to turn. Erik knew he wasn’t crazy, Charles had felt the same as he had. They were meant to be together, there was no use trying to pretend otherwise. But Charles still believed his problems were his alone to bear, and Erik couldn’t blame him for that. It was a huge ask to hope that Charles would ask for help, or even believe that he deserved it. But now Erik couldn’t think of a thing to say. He’d said it all, he’d shown Charles everything. He had no secrets. Now he knew there was nothing more he could do. So while his heart was breaking, Charles let a tear roll down his cheek as he walked out of Erik’s life.

Erik stared at the closed door until he knew, Charles wasn’t coming back. He really was gone. Charles was like a storm that had blown into Erik’s life, breaking all the control Erik had ever had over anything, and now, he was gone. All Erik could do was sit in the destruction that had been left behind, and wonder how he was ever going to carry on. It was so tempting to just lie in the mess of his broken heart and give up. But instead, he reached for the phone, and called his mother. Her voice kept his heart from crumbling into nothing, and her love kept him strong. And for the first time since he’d been a young teenager, Erik told his mother about the boy who’d stolen his heart.

***

Raven watched her brother sleeping in the armchair, listening to the sound of rhythmic bleeping machines and the steady whoosh of the respirator. She’d felt an immense amount of guilt for having run out on Charles, and left him to pick up the pieces behind her alone. Especially now things had taken a turn for the worse with their mother. She wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to say sorry enough, and what was worse, she knew Charles would never blame her for it. He’d never have blamed her in the first place, so there would be no argument and no forgiveness to be had.

Raven hadn’t visited her mother yet. Sharon had spent most of the past two years in and out of one medical facility or another, and by now, Raven was tired of speaking to doctors and hearing no good news. Of course, it was typical that the one time she didn’t rush to her mother’s side, would be the one time her condition had become hopeless. She might have come at all, had it not been for Moira, who had called her in a panic. Their mother had been moved to ICU, and no one had been able to contact Charles for 24 hours. Raven had raced to the hospital only to find Charles had beaten her to it. 

Raven had been following the BBC news feed on her phone for the past few hours, Sebastian Shaw had now been charged with conspiracy to commit fraud. Now that she had access to a TV, Raven turned it to the news channel and watched endless loops of Marko and Shaw being arrested, and reporters standing outside of the Old Bailey. The press were now speculating on where the trial would be held, since the company was British, but Marko’s fraud had been committed in the US. Clearly Marko would be tried in the US, but this wasn’t about to go away any time soon.

“How are you doing?” Moira asked quietly as she stepped into the room. She took a look at the nurse sat by the ventilator busily filling out her charts, and then at Charles, who remained asleep.

“Mum isn’t getting better,” Raven replied looking at the prone figure on the bed. Sharon Xavier’s level of consciousness had dropped to the point where she had been brought to intensive care and placed on a ventilator. “They put her into something called an induced coma. She might not ever get well enough to be brought back out.”

Raven knew that soon, she and Charles, or rather, mostly just Charles, would have to make the decision on what they did for the best. But right at this very moment, she was stable enough for Charles to rest.

“I’m sorry,” Moira sympathised, squeezing Raven’s shoulder lightly. “Are you alright?”

Raven nodded.

“I’m fine, but Charles… it’s six o’clock in the evening and he’s asleep in a chair. I shouldn’t have left him,” Raven said, looking at Charles with a concerned expression. “I should have called him, checked he was OK.”

Moira squeezed her shoulder once more. It was unfair what these two young people were going through right now, and although she’d managed to shield them rather well from the press by making interview deals, there was very little else Moira could do. She joined Raven in looking at Charles. His clothes were badly creased, and Moira had the suspicion that he hadn’t been home in a while.  

At the same time, they became aware that someone was standing behind them. The man who’d interrupted their silence was waiting with a worried look on his face. As he stepped forward toward the glass to look into the room, he wasn’t looking at Sharon, but past her, to where Charles still slept on. The concern on his face was unmistakable, but it didn’t explain his arrival to Moira. Why would Erik Lehnsherr show up here of all places?

“How did you get in here? It’s family only,” Moira demanded, as she moved to block his view, hoping to push him back out into the ward. “I thought you’d been arrested.”

“Moira MacTaggert?,” Erik asked, courteously stepping back without any trouble. “You know I’m not involved in the crime, I was questioned and released without charge.”

“You want to tell me why you’re here?” Moira asked.

Raven watched the exchange in stunned silence. How did these two know each other, and what was Erik talking about? He’d been questioned by the police? About what?

“It’s alright Moira, this is Erik, Charles’ friend,” Raven answered for Erik, sure there had been some huge misunderstanding somewhere.

“Charles’ friend?” Moira repeated, turning to look at Raven. “So neither you, nor your brother, thought it a good idea to tell me, that you’ve been socialising with Erik Lehnsherr?”

Raven couldn’t speak. Erik Lehnsherr? Erik was Erik Lehnsherr? The MD of H-fire? What the hell was Charles doing spending time with this man? The shock clearly must have shown on her face, because Moira looked exasperated.

“Alright, so I’m guessing that Charles failed to mention this. Great.”

“Raven, I’ve had nothing to do with the problems you’re having with Sebastian Shaw and Kurt Marko. And no, I didn’t know who Charles was when I met him,” Erik said quickly, hoping to limit some of the damage before Raven exploded with anger. “But I am seeing Charles, and that’s what I intend to do now, see him.”

“Oh hell no,” Raven said at last. “You’re not going in there. You’re going to talk to me. I’m not having you messing up Charles’ life even more than it already is.”

Raven watched Erik sit down on one of the sofas in the family conference room. Her eyes were narrowed as if she expected him to make a break for freedom at any moment. Wordlessly she sat down. Charles had been dating Erik Lehnsherr? What the hell had been happening over the few days she’d recklessly walked out on her problems? The weight of guilt returned to her even heavier, she’d left Charles with so many worries and cares. Even his date, the only man she’d ever seen him enthusiastic about had turned out to be caught up in the family business.

“How did you meet Charles anyway?” Raven asked after a while, her mouth finding words from somewhere. “What do you want?”

“I didn’t come here for trouble,” Erik assured her earnestly, but equally not prepared to share all his secrets. If Charles hadn’t told his sister what he’d been doing, then it didn’t seem Erik’s place to reveal it. Especially given the circumstances, although now it seemed that the secrets were out in the open regardless. “Charles stayed with me last night, he came for help, and I took advantage. I wanted to say sorry and make sure he was alright... even though he told me not to.”

“Took advantage?” Moira asked sitting down also, and looking concerned. “Please tell me this isn’t in the press. Good God Erik, I don’t think I can damage control this! What the hell was Charles thinking?”

Raven was shaking her head.

“Charles doesn’t think, he was completely crazy about this guy,” Raven said, mostly to Moira, who looked as if she might die of frustration. Raven snorted a laugh as she continued. “No one takes advantage of Charles; he’s out every weekend picking up guys.”

“You don’t think that’s dangerous?” Erik asked surprised by Raven’s flippant attitude to his confession. “Your brother was hurt by Shaw, and in trying to prove that I was different, I’ve made things worse for him.”    

Erik saw Raven hesitate in her thinking, her eyes shifted back to Moira. This time Erik thought the lawyer was about to faint. He was making things even more of a mess, as clearly, Charles had not revealed his relationship with Sebastian Shaw either. Not that Erik blamed him, but considering it was bound to remain unburied now that the world was prying into Shaw’s affairs, Charles was employing a risky strategy here.

“Shaw?” Moira enquired through gritted teeth.

Fuck it, Erik thought. He couldn’t take it back now, and why was Charles pretending none of this had happened? If anyone in the world needed to know about Charles’ badly chosen lover, it was his lawyer. As for Raven, she looked terrified now, Moira’s anger too apparent to ignore.

“Sebastian Shaw, he picked Charles up, treated him like shit and dumped him on the side of the street like trash. This is how I met Charles, as one of Shaw’s discarded ‘toys’,” Erik said, his tone resentful. He knew it was cruel, but it was true. Charles had been cast aside by Shaw and ‘saved’ by Erik. “Yes, Sebastian Shaw the very same man you’re pressing charges against.”

“So, you thought you’d just scoop my brother up from the gutter and sleep with him did you?” Raven responded, her brow furrowed in disgust. “You’re vile.”

The way Erik’s shoulders slumped at her words, and his expression became saddened made Raven pause in her anger. She had been waiting for his line, his argument for why he was different, but he said nothing. He looked as if he believed her, and she suddenly felt sorry. Erik wasn’t a bad person; she had known that from the moment she’d met him. He was kind, and the way he had looked at Charles after that night he’d met their mother had told Raven he wasn’t just some random hook up. He did care about Charles. That was obvious. He’d come all this way to see him, and sit through abuse without complaint. No one would do that if they weren’t genuine,.

“You promise me you’re not involved in the scam,” Raven demanded, looking Erik dead in the eye. “Or God help me Erik, I will kill you.”

Erik looked up to reply, but as he did he caught sight of someone in the glass window of the door. Charles was looking in on them all with a bleary eyed expression. Immediately Moira was on her feet to open the door.

“They’re increasing mother’s noradrenaline,” Charles mumbled as he walked in. There was no point in asking what they’d all been talking about, since Erik was here there was only one topic that would have required privacy. Charles knew his whole sordid history was probably out on the table, and he could hardly look Erik in the eye.

“Is she OK?”

“No Raven, she’s not OK,” Charles snapped, shrugging away Moira’s comforting arm and stepping away. “I don’t know what to do.”

There was nervous silence in the room as Charles walked forward as if in a daze and sat next to Erik on the sofa. Erik didn’t move, scared that if he did Charles might realise who was sitting next to, and jump back up again. Charles sat back against the cushions and closed his eyes, breathing in deep steady breaths.

“What are you doing here Erik?” Charles asked, not moving or opening his eyes. “I told you not to come.”

“I was worried about you.”

Charles laughed, but it was hollow and sad, as if he couldn’t believe Erik’s answer even for a second.

“Charles, I am very sorry that I have to ask you this, but,” Moira began, watching Charles sigh as he realised what was coming. “Did you have a romantic relationship with Sebastian Shaw?”

Erik watched Charles’ eyes open, slowly; the bright blue that Erik found so beautiful was surrounded by irritated and tired red. It wasn’t fair. Charles didn’t deserve this, and although he’d broken Erik’s heart, Erik could blame him for a moment.

“Shaw doesn’t know what romance is. He took me out for two weeks, did horrible things to me in his car and then left me on the side of the road. I would have passed out in my own vomit if it hadn’t been for Erik,” Charles said miserably. “And I know I should have told you, but when? It was never the right time, and then mother… I couldn’t talk to either of you, so I went to Erik.”

“Alright,” Moira said, her mind racing at a million miles a second as she tried to straighten this out. Was this going to hit the papers? Would Shaw talk about this? Not that it would help him to, it wasn’t like causing a scandal was going to alter his fate, but would he? Just to hurt the family. “We can sort this, and we can make it go away.”

Charles looked at the woman as if she was crazy.

“You can’t make this go away, you can’t take back all the stuff that I’ve done and ruined,” Charles told her, before he looked at Erik.

“I don’t understand this. So you met under shit circumstances, so what? If you want to be together, then just be together,” Raven said, speaking as if this was painfully obvious. “Charles, I know you like him, you said he was the fittest guy you ever saw and you couldn’t wait to see him again. Just stop feeling so sorry for yourself, for fuck sake, and go be with Erik.”

Charles stared at Raven like she’d completely lost the plot.

“But…” he began.

“No,” Raven snapped, “No but. You like Erik, Erik likes you. What is happening with the company is _my_ business, it’s _my_ problem and I don’t want to run away from it anymore. You’re blaming yourself for things that aren’t your fault, and it’s painful to watch.”

“I’m sorry to say it Charles, but Raven is right. This is her case, her money; you’re not involved in this. You can back out,” Moira told him, her business face back on, her voice calm again. “I think you need to.”

“I can’t back out,” Charles replied shaking his head.

“Well, I’m kicking you out then,” Raven said determinedly. “I’ll fly to New York in a few days with Moira. I’ll face Marko in court, without you.”

“No, you can’t do that…”

“Brian Xavier might not be my real father, but he’s the only father I’ll ever have. He left that money to me, and he worked hard for my future, and I’ll be damned if I let Marko destroy it,” Raven said. “I’m going to New York, you can’t stop me. You just have to trust me now. Do you trust me Charles?”

“Yes of course I do,” Charles replied instantly. There was no question about it, but it didn’t mean Raven was ready for this.

“Then let me go to New York. Let me fight this myself. I want to. I’m ashamed of hiding; I’m ashamed of making you feel guilty for everything that’s happened. Nothing is your fault, but you’re blaming yourself so much. Look at the state of you!”

“But mother,” Charles said. If Raven left, she might never see her again.

“I trust you,” Raven said with a sad smile. “You’ll make the right decisions for her, you always do. Whatever happens, I trust you.”

Charles nodded. Raven was right. They had two problems, and there were two of them. It made sense to part ways and carry a care each. But to send Raven into the unknown, and into a battle in the US court system seemed a heavy price. But he couldn’t go with her, he couldn’t leave their mother, and he couldn’t go in Raven’s place. This was the only option.

“Why don’t you and Erik go get dinner or something?” Raven suggested. She felt exhausted from the tension. Charles’ secret life had thrown her for a loop, but now that it was out there, did it really matter? Whatever Charles had been doing with Shaw was no one’s business, but he’d found someone who was prepared to slog through every possible problem just to sit beside him, and that wasn’t something to sacrifice.  “I’ll stay here tonight. You know I’ll call you if there’s any problem.”

Raven stood walked towards her brother and pressed a kiss to his cheek. It was so sad that Erik found he couldn’t watch. It felt like a goodbye. A ‘don’t worry about me anymore’ kiss. A ‘I’m not a child anymore’, kiss. The past was over. Raven would walk out of here and Charles would never get her back, not like this. His little sister would return independent, no longer needing him, no longer scared of life, and in return, Raven had set Charles free. But would Charles realise that?

“I’ll see you before you leave wont I?” Charles asked, worried. Raven nodded.

“Don’t be unhappy anymore,” she told him. “It’ll be OK.”


End file.
